


Finding Home

by GravityDefyingHair



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Credence is on a journey with Newt, Graves is a huge softie when he's not at work, Graves knew Credence before Grindelwald fucked shit up, He's a dick, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Newt just wants to help, Self Confidence Issues, Seraphina Piquery makes bad decisions, classic let's make them happy again fic, i saw this movie three time in one week i know what i'm doing, no sympathy for him though, obviously, the fucker is in it now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8743840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GravityDefyingHair/pseuds/GravityDefyingHair
Summary: Credence can't figure out how this whole Obscurial thing works, especially since he's stuck as just a piece of what he used to be. Newt tries to help the best he can. Graves doesn't know what he's expected to do with himself after what Grindelwald did, especially when he realizes just what kind of system he's been working under for years. Tina has some ideas for him.They miss each other more than either is planning on admitting out loud.





	1. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, who wants to live in denial that this ship is awful? 
> 
> Me. I do. 
> 
> Fuck Grindelwald, guys. I don't care if he's the actual reason I ship these two, but honestly, this ship is really interesting and I'm ready to make it nice and loving and full of good feelings. Who's with me??

Credence feels very weak.

He flits and wavers in the air as he slowly tries to find his way home. A small wisp of darkness, he doesn't feel nearly as strong as he had before... Not nearly as powerful. The rain that falls from the sky doesn't touch him, the drops fall around him and he's grateful. He already feels so cold, and he doesn't think a November rain would help much.

He's nearly back to the church when a jar suddenly falls around him. The glass walls are warm for some reason and he curls up immediately. He's trapped, but he doesn't mind so much at the moment. When hasn't he been trapped?

"Hello, Credence."

Credence can't see very well in this form, but he recognizes the voice.

It was that man, the one who followed him into the subway. The one who Mr. Graves... tortured on the rails.

It was all Credence's fault.

He curled up tighter and smaller than before. He wanted to disappear.

"No, no! Don't do that, it'll be alright. I won't keep you in there for long, just until we can get you into a more corporeal form." The man told him, as if that's what Credence was upset about. "I don't know if you remember me, Credence. My name is Newt. I'm a friend of Tina's. She's very upset about what happened. I'm afraid she blames herself for it."

Why? It's Credence's fault. It always is. He couldn't be good enough to not be punished. That's always what happens.

"I'll be taking you with me, Credence. We'll go to someone I think can help. Have you ever been to England, Credence? I don't imagine you've been outside of New York City to be honest..."

He has been outside of New York. His ma had family upstate. They would go there sometimes for the larger meetings of the church. He remembers them always whispering behind his back. No one but his own family willing to speak to him, and even then 'willing' wasn't quite the word he would use.

"You'll love England. Unfortunately, it's illegal to apparate such distances, which is for the best really. I lose creatures sometimes if we go too far. Not to mention it makes quite a few of them rather woozy."

Credence has no idea what this man is talking about. He knows about apparating. Mr. Graves would do it often, and sometimes took Credence with him. But the creatures? What creatures exactly?

"Come along, Credence," Newt said, as if Credence had a choice. "I'll put you somewhere safe for now."

Credence felt more than saw the space around him change. In one moment he was on the sidewalk in New York and the next he was being set on a shelf in what appeared to be a shed of some sort. The light was much softer than what he was used to, and it made him feel safer somehow.

"Don't worry about the creatures." Newt told him. "The glass is unbreakable and the lid is sealed on with a charm. None of them will get to you."

Credence hadn't been worried until Newt told him that. He expanded in his small space, filling it with darkness, and found that, yes, the glass indeed refused to break.

"Don't be like that, I promise that you'll be alright. I know you've had your share of broken promises, but I swear to you, Credence, you will be fine. Better than fine once we figure out how to help you."

Credence wants to believe him. He was always very good with believing in things. In God, in his ma, in Mr. Graves... But they all led him astray. They all hurt him.

He tries harder to push against the glass. It refuses to be broken, even though Credence is very good at breaking things.

Newt sighs dejectedly. "I'll be back soon, Credence. Doogle will watch out for you while I'm away. Make sure no one puts you somewhere I can't find. Soon, Credence, don't worry."

Newt leaves the shed, going up an odd staircase.

Credence shrinks back again, feeling drained. He'll take a moment, he thinks. Just to rest while he can. He suspects he'll be shunted out again soon.

~

Percival Graves does not feel well at all. He had failed in every sense of the word. Tina wasn't all too pleased with him herself.

"If you hadn't demoted me... None of this would have happened." she had told him when she came to see him that morning.

He doesn't respond, because he knows she understands _why_ he did it. And he understands that she needs to blame someone.

It was all he could do not to get her fired. Putting her in Wand Registry was the closest he could get her to Auror given what she had done. He understood why she had done it. Tina had been an orphan, and she had been in homes like that one. If Percival had had any real choice, he would have had the mother arrested. But he didn't have a choice, and he did what he could with what he was left with.

Tina had asked him, begged him really, to watch out for Credence. To let him know he wasn't alone. And Percival had done just that. He talked to the boy, made promises to him, because whether he was a wizard or a squib, he was a part of their world and he deserved to get that chance to know it.

He didn't know Credence was an obscurial. At least not until the President told him. He wasn't looking for it. Credence had had years to suppress his magic, and he was good at it. He had spent over a month talking and meeting with Credence and he hadn't helped at all. Not in any way that mattered.

He had gone to Europe to find someone to evaluate Credence. He hadn't wanted the young man to get his hopes up about it, because either way Percival had planned to take Credence away afterward, and he perhaps had wanted it to be a bit of a surprise for Credence... But he had been ambushed. Someone in immigration worked for Grindelwald and they caught him off guard. He came back to America in his own suitcase and no one had been the wiser.

When they finally found him, it was at the foot of his own bed, chained up and gagged inside his hope chest. Grindelwald had taken all of his hair for polyjuice and hadn't bothered to feed him or clean up after him. It had only been a few days, but still, Percival was left starving and weak in his own filth. Being found was as much punishment as it was relief.

After being fed, cleaned and checked over, Percival was left in a hospital room with the President.

"Madame President." he said after a long silence.

"Percival," Seraphina has said softly, letting him know exactly what kind or conversation this was. "How did this happen?"

Percival avoided her eye. "Sera, I already said-"

"Holiday in France, yeah. Except you don't take holidays. What were you really doing?"

Percival rubbed a hand over his face. "You're right... There's a young man. His name is Cre-"

"Credence Barebone?" she asked quietly.

He looked at her surprised. He didn't know how she could have known about him. Percival hadn't said anything and the President hadn't been very concerned with anything Tina had to say after she had gone after Mary Lou Barebone.

"How do you know about him?" Percival asked.

Serphina shook her head, and suddenly it was her who was avoiding eye contact.

"He's magical." Percival said. "I had gone looking for a witch, she was going to meet with him and tell me his level of magic. I know I shouldn't have gone without speaking with you, but Credence-"

"He's dead."

Percival felt his blood run cold and Percival suddenly lost control of himself. The vase at his bed side exploded, as well as each flower that had rested there. Water and flower petals covered both of them.

"What do you mean he's dead? How do you even know about him?" Percival asked slowly. His eyes widened suddenly in realization. "Grindelwald! Did he go after-"

Seraphina shook her head again and reached to rest her hand on his arm. She met his eyes and she looked so anxious and... guilty.

"Grindelwald did use him. He was looking for an Obscurial. He thought Credence could help him find it."

"There hasn't been an Obscurial in centuries, not since the Salem-" But wait... Percival's mind reeled. "The second Salemers. His sister. He had a little sister, couldn't be more than 10 years. Modesty is her name."

"That's what Grindelwald thought, too." Serphina closed her eyes. "The Obscurial wasn't a child, Percival. It was Credence."

Percival shook his head. He would have seen something, he would have known. "No. No, you don't... I was going to teach him. I was going to take him away from there. He couldn't have been holding it back, I told him I would help. I told him there was **nothing** wrong with him."

"He'd been suppressing it since he was young. We don't know how he survived, but he destroyed half of New York. If it wasn't for Scamander, Grindelwald would have gotten what he wanted. Our world was exposed."

"Half of New York?" Percival asked. "No, Credence isn't **violent**. He wouldn't do that, he just-"

"He was already unstable, and he was more powerful than Grindelwald thought. He had already been attacking places without realizing. He killed no-maj's. A man named Shaw as well as his adoptive mother."

"He killed her? _Credence?"_ Percival didn't understand. He couldn't understand. Credence was shy, nervous, and downtrodden. He had been timid in the face of his mother, he couldn't have harmed her if he wanted to. Credence had been incapable of disobeying her, let alone...

"That woman..." Percival muttered, darkly. "And it... The Obscurus? It... killed him?"

Percival wanted to do something. He wanted to leave. Go to the church himself, see for himself that the President wasn't lying to him.

"It didn't." Seraphina said, and her voice shook. "Percival, you need to understand. He had already killed two people. He was destroying the city. If I hadn't done something-"

Percival pushed her hand off his arm.

She did it.

She killed him.

She killed Credence. His friend, his responsibility, his-

His _Credence_.

Percival couldn't look at her.

"I think you should leave, Madame President."

"Percival, please-"

"I'll be resigning from the force. Once I'm out of here, you'll get the formal documents."

She stood. Her chair scraped against the hospital floor.

"Very well, _**Mr. Graves**_." she said, and her voice was cold.

What right did she have to be upset with him?

"I'll send Ms. Goldstein up with your wand." she told him.

The President then walked out of the room.

Percival looked around him at the mess he had made. Broken pieces of glass. Headless stems. Brightly colored petals left on the floor.

He looked out of the window and felt nothing but gut wrenching sorrow and anger.

The window started to crack under his gaze.

He breathed deeply, trying to relax, but with each breath the cracks grew longer. Finally he let go, and yelled out his anger and confusion, and most of all his sorrow.

The windows burst outward as if a bomb went off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for checking out my story! I have no idea how long it will be or if I'll even finish it, but comments help a lot!
> 
> If you're reading my Kylux fic, please know that I AM still working on it. That fic is my baby. But damn, it's hard to write about hiking in the summer when you're freezing your ass off in NY.


	2. Getting Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just published this, but damn it if I couldn't help but write more.

"Almost there, Credence, don't worry."

Newt's voice echoed through the shed. It had been periodically throughout the hours, or days, or however long he had been there.

It was meant to be reassuring. Credence wanted it to be reassuring, but he continued to grow small. What if he was lying? What if he was stuck in this jar for the rest of his life? What if he never became human again?

Something with a snakelike body curled itself tighter around his jar. It had been there for a while now and it hadn't tried to get to him at all, just stayed there surrounding him with a close up view of it's scales. The smaller he got, the tighter it's grip on him became, almost like it was trying to hug him. He appreciated the effort.

It was a long while before he heard Newt again. Although at one point he was lifted away from the snake thing and put into a much darker space. He was pretty sure it was Newt's pocket, but he had no way of finding out for sure.

He stayed in there for what felt like a very, _very_ long time.

When he was finally moved it was to be set on a table.

"-took a several hits from MACUSA aurors. If you had seen it, Professor... I couldn't do anything to stop it. And I'm afraid I don't know what to do now."

That was Newt talking. Credence did his best to gaze around, but all he saw was dark shapes. There was one that he thought maybe was Newt, and the another that he for sure did not recognize.

"He must be very powerful to have survived not only an Obscurus, but spells that were clearly meant to destroy him. How old is he exactly?"

"At least 20. I'm afraid I hadn't much of a chance to ask."

"Twenty years blocking out his very nature... The poor boy."

"MACUSA had no idea what they were dealing with, sir. They had thought Obscurials no longer happened, but these Second Salemers... It was no wonder he suppressed it. I saw what they did to him, even without knowing about his magic."

"Yes, these muggles... Muggles can be cruel, Mr. Scamander. Especially when dealing with things they don't understand."

"Wizards as well, sir. I find it's universally a _human_ thing."

"You have more experience with that than most, I'm afraid. We'll see what I can dig up for him. I'm afraid he may never be rid of the obscurus, but if we can remove it without harming him, we shall."

Credence filled the jar once more.

Remove it? If they do what will happen? Will he die?

"I believe we've been rather rude, Mr. Scamander. Ignoring Mr. Barebone like this."

"You're quite right, sir. Credence?"

Credence swirled around his small space, looking for the seal of the lid. If he pressed hard enough, perhaps he could force it open...

"Credence, it's alright. I've brought you to someone who can help. He's dealt with parasitic magical forces before." Newt said, trying to comfort Credence in some way. "This is Professor Dumbledore, Credence. He teaches at the school I went to. Perhaps, someone may have told you that we have schools? You would have gone to Ilvermorny, Credence."

Mr. Graves had mentioned Ilvermorny... He had said that he would give Credence his old books to read. He couldn't have them at the time, not with his ma going through his things every night. Mr. Graves had told him about his school house and the statues that had chosen him. Credence had wondered for many night which one might have picked him... If maybe none of them would.

"It's quite an occasion to meet you, Credence. I'm glad to see you alive. When Newt owled me about what happened, I confess I was unsure if you would survive the trip. You are very strong, Credence, very strong indeed."

Credence shrank into himself again. He wasn't strong, he was dangerous. He killed his **_ma_**. And Mr. Shaw, no matter how awful he had been, didn't deserve what Credence had done.

"I'm afraid Credence can be rather shy."

"If I remember correctly, you weren't exactly a social butterfly yourself, Mr. Scamander."

"Yes, well..." Newt said awkwardly. "I've made a few friends now. I'll be writing to them once everything gets sorted out."

"Very well, I'll call for you when I've found something. There's a room waiting for you across from the kitchens behind the painting of the rather delicious looking roast. I'm sure you remember the way?"

"Of course, Professor. Thank you for allowing my stay."

"Nonsense, my boy. You've allowed me near constant updates in your book, why, even our headmaster is looking forward to the day it's published."

Credence saw Newt's hand close around his jar as he was lifted and placed back into Newt's pocket.

All was quiet and dark.

When he was lifted out again, he was set on what Credence thought to be a bedside table.

"We'll have this fixed soon, Credence. Dumbledore is quite possibly the greatest wizard to live yet. He's worked miracles before, and if there was ever one deserving of a miracle, it's you."

Credence felt somewhat comforted by the words. Mr. Graves had called him a miracle...

"Credence, I think I should explain some things to you. About what's going on in the wizarding world at the mo'." Newt sounded very serious as he said this. "This is a dark time in our history, I'm afraid. There's a man. A wizard. He's trying to start a war using fear...

"Your government, that is to say the Magical Congress, has been feeding into this fear for quite a while. They believe that wizards and muggles, er, no-maj's as Americans call them, that we can't live together as an integrated community. I honestly can't tell you my own feelings about this as I don't have much to go on myself besides one very kind man. England works a bit differently you see, we can marry and befriend muggles just like any other person. It's never been an issue before, and frankly, we would have all died out by now if we hadn't.

"But I'm getting off track. They feel that people, like Mary Lou, will start a war between our worlds. I don't know if that would happen, myself. But fear is a very powerful thing, and this wizard, Grindelwald he's called, wants this war to happen. He wants to wipe out muggles. He doesn't believe them to be equal to us."

Credence remembers Mr. Graves saying something similar just a few days before Credence became a monster. He said that Credence was better than his ma and his sisters because of his magic. That he could live a life better than theirs because he deserved it more. He had found the words comforting at the time... But that was before Mr. Graves decided to hurt him.

"I don't know what Mr. Graves tried to tell you, Credence."

Credence wavered in his slow turn around the jar, stuttered almost. Had Newt just read his mind?

"But you need to know that that Mr. Graves? The one that used you and tried to stop me from helping you? That wasn't the real Graves."

Credence stopped altogether. He hung there in mid-air, unmoving.

"That was Grindelwald. He had replaced Graves in an attempt to find the Obscurial. To find you. But he underestimated you, Credence. He thought you were beneath him and he only cared when he saw what you could do. He _wanted_ you to hurt people, Credence."

Credence formed as sharp of a point he could and rammed into the glass wall. He turned to smoke as soon as glass met him however, and he instead chose to hide in the lid of the jar.

"When Tina tried to stop your mother from hurting you," Newt lifted the jar from the table and held it in his hands. "She was forced to step down from her position in the Magical Law Enforcement Department. She was forbidden from going near you or your family again, because of the laws that tell us to not interact with non-magical people. She asked her friend and superior, Mr. Graves to watch after you."

Credence already knew this. Mr. Graves had told him as much.

" **That** Mr. Graves was real. He wanted to help, as far as I know. That wasn't a lie, Credence. He left to find someone to help you. To determine your place in our world. Grindelwald attacked him and took his place."

Credence stayed in his hiding place. People could steal your face? Witches could take your place in the world and no one would know better? Credence didn't want to be a witch. He wanted to go back home to his ma where everything felt normal. Where his routine was simple and the rules were just.

"Credence, I am so sorry that he hurt you, but I am glad he showed you his true nature before he could take further advantage of you. You deserve better than that, Credence, and we **will** figure this out. We'll help you to manifest again and we will help you find your place in this world. We won't let you face it alone anymore."

Newt set him back down on the table and Credence slowly dropped down from his place in the lid. He sank slowly to the bottom, settling there like sediment settles at the bottom of a river. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see Mr. Graves again. The real Mr. Graves. The one that let him hold his wand and who melted the snow to show him the flowers that lived beneath. He wanted the Mr. Graves who smiled at him and told him about how he replaced his coffee with hot chocolate when no one was looking.

"This will get better soon, Credence. Everything does eventually. If it's not a happy ending, the story isn't over yet."

~~

Tina escorted Percival home from the hospital. The walk there was silent and the streets were shining from the rain under the street lamps.

She had handed him his wand without any fuss. She looked sad and somewhat eager at the same time. The walk was silent for the most part. Their steps echoed in the dark and Percival's head was cold without his hair. It was growing back too slowly for his liking and was hoping to find a charm or potion to make it grow faster when he finally got home. Tina's voice snapped him out of his musings.

"What do you think of magical creatures, Mr. Graves?" she asked.

"Uh," he said, intelligently. "I can't say I've much of an opinion, Ms. Goldstein. Other than the laws against them, I've never given them much thought."

"See, I was thinking about that." she said. "I met this fella while you were, um, _away_."

Percival nodded. He appreciated her attempt to not bring up Grindelwald.

"He's British, but he's been all around the world, and he helps these creatures. The magical kind. He takes them in and he learns about them. He tries to take what people think is bad about them and find something good about it."

"Like what exactly?" Percival asked, only thinking about dragons the destruction they cause.

"You ever heard of something called Swooping Evil?"

Percival raised his eyebrows at that. "Swooping... Evil? No, I can't say I have."

"Thing is, Mr. Graves, it's not _actually_ evil. It's just called that because it does things to the brain."

Percival didn't really want to ask exactly what it did to the brain, so he just nodded.

"It saved my life. This guy, Newt Scamander, he gained this thing's trust. It listened to him. I jumped and it caught me. It saved our lives more than once in fact. Jones and Abrams were coming after us and it just... It blocked their spells and it took down Jones with no problem."

"I see..."

"And the no-maj's. It's venom erased their memories with the help of a Thunderbird named Frank. A _Thunderbird_ , just like the Ilvermorny house! Everything bad that happened was just gone. It was as if Credence never-"

Percival stopped in his tracks and Tina's walk slowed to a stop a few feet ahead of him.

Tina looked back at him slowly. Her face crumpled with exactly what he was feeling himself. A few feet away from them, a bush burst into flames.

Tina jumped back, but Percival did nothing but raise his wand and douse it with water. It went out quickly.

"Sorry, Tina." Percival said, clearing his throat. "I'm not quite... I'm sorry. I won't lose control again."

"You've been losing control a lot since you got back, Mr. Graves." Tina said softly. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have blamed you before-"

Percival held up a hand shook his head. "Not tonight, Tina."

She didn't say anything else about it. "They say you're retiring." She says instead, forcing a smile.

Percival nods and starts walking again. She walks with him as he passes her.

"It's just... Your position is a big one. An **_influential_** one. If you... If you were to bring this up to the President, she may listen to you. About the magical creatures I mean."

"Are you saying I shouldn't resign so I can make magical creatures legal in the U.S.?"

"Well... _Yeah_. More or less..."

"I can't do that, Tina." he says with finality. "My time at MACUSA is done with. I can't keep doing this anymore."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Graves, but I disagree with you. Grindelwald still has an extremely large following, and frankly, MACUSA needs to see some changes if they want to avoid a war. You can make those changes."

"No, Tina. I can't change anything. I no longer wish to work for a government that blindly follows. The President and I are no longer on good terms."

"Me and the President were never on good terms, and that's not going to stop me from trying to make changes."

Percival couldn't help but smile at that. "I know it won't stop you, Tina. There's rarely anything that can. Which is exactly why you don't need me."

"You've always had a lot of faith in me, Mr. Graves, but this time I'm putting my faith in you. Don't quit just yet." Tina said, grabbing onto his arm. "Having you on my side would help a lot. And I know you don't like to throw your family name around, but your ancestors have been a big part of this country's government since the beginning. That influence could help a lot."

"Tina..." Percival sighed as they came to stop outside his house.

"Percival." she said in return, and it took him by surprise. She never called him by his first name, even after his insistence early into their work relationship.

He huffed out a small laugh and shook his head. "I'll think about it." he says, and she smiles like she's already won.

He rolls his eyes and turns to look at his front step. He hesitates going inside.

"Um... Aurors were here for a few days, looking for evidence to use against Grindelwald." Tina tells him.

He nods, lost in thought for a moment. "I've never really liked going home much before," he confides in her. "But now...? Now, after everything that's happened, I _definitely_ don't want to go home."

"Not much of a home then, is it?" she asks.

He shakes his head.

She nudges his arm, and smiles when he turns to look at her.

"How about you stay at mine tonight? My sister's been buying up pastries like a mad woman, it'd be nice to have someone to help eat them."

"Well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and leave kudos!! I love kudos!!! (But I love comments more...)


	3. Trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just be aware that there's a scene where Credence is abused by Mary Lou. It's a memory, but you know. Just to be aware. <3

Credence had fallen into a trance that night on Newt's nightstand. It was almost like sleeping, but not _quite_. He feels like darkness rather than feeling like he is in darkness. He thinks of traveling lights and colors. He is mesmerized by them and surrounds them.

He imagines that Newt couldn't quite tell the difference between this trance and when Credence is normally awake, because Newt had no issues grabbing Credence's jar without warning and waking him.

"Come along, Credence." he said cheerfully. "Professor Dumbledore has a free period at the moment and is wanting to try some things out."

Credence felt fear again. He didn't **_want_** to be separated. This was who he was now, if they took that away from him, what would he be left with?

He could see lights pass them by from his place in the jar. He could barely tell the difference between the windows and what he thought were lanterns. Eventually they found themselves in a large room, filled with natural light.

"There you both are." the man from before, Dumbledore, called out. "I've prepared a few things to test out for today, but before we try any of them, I thought we could let Credence get some air."

"Oh, yes, of course." Newt agreed, but then he lowered his voice. "Although, I am a bit hesitant, Professor. As I've said before, Credence can get quite skiddish when feeling pressured. I had hoped we could let him out in a bit more of an enclosed space."

"I understand. I read about what happened in New York. The things we can do when we feel we're out of options... The Daily Prophet had a fasinating article on the morality of wizards and if we're doing enough to find and teach our young witches and wizards of the world."

"Right, erm... You can tell Credence all about it while I set up a decent barrier spell." Newt said, handing Credence off to a pair of older hands.

"Well, Credence," Dumbledore started. "You see it's believed to be a failing of the schooling system that brought you to your current state. Not that anyone knows you're alive of course, but that fact that you've become an Obscurial at all is a clear sign that we aren't well off enough in our magic detection of young wizards like yourself. If Ilvermorny had located you at the proper age of 11, we certainly wouldn't have had to worry you with this talk of teaching, and separating you and your obscurus. It's something that will surely be brought up at the next staff meeting, I can assure you."

Credence didn't know why, but he enjoyed listening to this man talk. Was that really what had happened to him? A failing of the system? Would he already be a wizard by now if he had simply been found as a child? Maybe if he hadn't been holding it all inside of him...

"Ah, I believe Mr. Scamander is all set to let you out now, if you're ready?"

Credence was handed back to Newt and he heard a quick tap on the lid of his jar. The lid twisted and with a pop it was opened.

Credence didn't leave right away. He hesitated and it was only with a quiet, "Go on," from Newt that he squirmed his way out. 

"Alright now, Credence. If you don't mind, I would like for you to try and become your average, yet extraordinary human self." Dumbledore asked him, as if Credence was being asked to state the Ten Commandments.

Credence twisted and curled in the air, trying to remember what it felt like to be solid, or even human. He struggled in the air for a few minutes before he gave up.

"A marvelous first attempt, Credence!" Dumbledore stated proudly. Credence felt his spirit lift slightly at the praise, though he knew he had done nothing to deserve it.

"I imagine that being hit by several spells at once must have been quite draining on you. I've taken the liberty to prepare a replenishing potion for you to see if we can give you back some of your impeccable strength."

Credence could hear a glass being set on the desk to his right. He followed the sound and navigated his way to it the best he could. It was when he was in front of it he realized he could not drink from it without lips or a mouth.

"Why not test it out, Credence? Dip a toe in as they say." Dumbeldore urged.

Credence dipped into the glass. The liquid felt cool around him, but quickly grew warm as he settled himself into it. It felt quite nice, if not strange to be surrounded by a magical liquid, but he couldn't help but agree that he did feel a little bit better.

"Oh, dear." Newt said. "He's boiling it."

Credence wasn't sure what he meant by that until the glass exploded from the heat. Credence felt embarrassed for what he had done. Clearly he was incapable of doing the very simplest of tasks. He hoped that the glass wasn't a favorite of Mr. Dumbledore's...

But suddenly, with a wave of Newt's wand, the glass was there again, sitting on the desk. It was empty, but there it sat as if Credence had done nothing wrong. Credence thought back to all the chair's he'd tripped over at dinner, smashing the dinnerware on the cold floor and looking up to see his ma standing over him. He couldn't recall the exact expression she wore on her face, but for him it always meant a beating.

It could have been solved so quickly with magic. Magic he had in him the whole time. Magic that turned him into _**this**_ instead.

"Alright, then, Credence." Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts. "Back into the glass, I have a simple conversion spell I'd like to try. If it works, you should turn into a liquid, and then we shall see where it goes from there."

A wand was now pointed directly at Credence himself. Credence shrank back into the newly reformed glass.

"Condesio." Dumbledore said, and Credence felt himself lose all sense of floating that he had before.

He was a liquid.

It was certainly a different sensation than he had been expecting. He gathered himself together the best he could at the bottom of the glass and tried to reach upward. It didn't work very well as gravity had much more of an effect on him. He plopped back down and splattered a bit against the surface. He shuddered at the feeling and did his best to gather himself up again.

"Well, that was about what I expected to be honest." Dumbledore said, pleasantly. "He still has some control, which is a good sign, I think. Shall we try a freezing charm?"

"Perhaps not freezing so much as solidifying." Newt interjected politely.

"Right you are, Mr. Scamander."

Dumbledore once again pointed his wand at Credence.

"Astrinduro."

A rush of something went through credence and he found himself unable to move at all. He felt horribly stiff and suddenly claustrophobic.

The glass was lifted and gently tipped over, causing Credence to tumble out. He rotated on the surface like a coin until he came to a sure stop.

"Hmm... Perhaps he's too solid." Dumbeldore inquired. "Very well. Back to how we were then."

With a quick 'Reparifarge', Credence felt himself slowly fall apart and evaporate into the air. He was back to being a mere wisp of darkness in the light. He swirled in the air simply because he could again.

"Now that we've had a bit of fun, I think it's time we moved on to something a bit more complicated."

More complicated? Credence just went through three very different forms of existing in a very short amount of time. He wasn't sure if he could take anything more... He made this known immediately as he twirled in the air and

"I apologize, Mr. Barebone, but we'll have to do some tests in order to cross a few more things off our list before we can start really experimenting. It make take a while, and I ask that if you need to rest, simply make your way back to Newt's jar and we'll leave it for another day."

Newt stepped up with the jar, setting it next to Credence.

"There's no expectations here, Credence. There's no getting it wrong." he assured Credence quietly. "We'll figure it out together."

Somehow it didn't make Credence feel any better.

~~~

Percival didn't sleep very well.

It wasn't by any fault of the Goldstein sisters, of course. They had been excellent hosts to him, going to far as to add a spare room for him where their closet had been. He was comfortable, he was warm, and Queenie doted on him in that same way an aging grandmother might. It helped a bit that she knew what he wanted before he could even consider asking for it. Although he could tell when she was reading his mind for the less pleasant thoughts, because of the way she glanced at him worriedly.

Percival didn't sleep well because every time he drifted off, he almost immediately woke up in a panic, believing he was still trapped in that small space of a chest. He did his best not to bother the sisters with it, but Queenie knew anyway and fixed him some hot chocolate before he could tell her to go back to bed.

He yawned widely at breakfast and tried to smile away the worried looks that the sisters sent his way. Queenie set down a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs in front of him. The eggs were the perfect amount of fluffy, Queenie had a talent in the kitchen that even magic couldn't help Percival achieve.

Percival nodded his thanks and sipped at his coffee. It was perfect, as was the usual for Queenie.

"It'll be fine, Percival." Tina insisted. "You never formally resigned, and it'll be good for you to get back to investigating."

"Thank you, Tina. Everything is fine, I'm just... Concerned as to, ah... Well, to be perfectly honest, I'm concerned I may have lost the respect of my colleages."

"Nonsense, Mr. Graves! I certainly still respect you," Queenie reassured. "And I know Tina still looks up to you just as she always has. Anyone who thinks any of what happened reflects badly on you... Well, they can- They can stuff it!"

"Thank you, Queenie." Percival said, fighting back a more genuine smile from spreading across his face. "I respect you as well. More than you can possibly know."

Queenie smiled delightfully and tapped the side of her head. "I've got a good idea, Mr. Graves, and I appreciate it."

They didn't bother with trying to sneak Percival out of the house, he apparated into the alley next door and waited for the girls to join him downstairs. As they began their walk, Queenie was hanging off of Percival's arm as they headed to the Woolworth building. Tina was at his other side and would occasionally glance over at him with a reassuring look.

"Perhaps we should get you a hat for the winter season?" Tina asked.

Percival shook his head. "No need. I'll be growing my hair out tonight if I can."

"Oh, would you like me to cut it for you? I'm no professional, but a simple men's cut isn't hard to do." Queenie offered, biting her lip.

She beamed before he could give her his answer. He couldn't help but feel that her gift seemed more convient for him that it did for her.

"This'll be good." Tina told him, holding open the door for him. "We'll do better this time around, I can feel it."

He wanted her to be right.

They bid their farewell's to Queenie as she made her way to her own job and they got into the elevator. Red's eyes had widened at the sight of Percival, but he didn't make any comment other than a "Welcome back, sir."

Percival stood a little taller than before, preparing himself for the day.

The President was in his office when he got down there. The door was open, the lock looked broken. He imagined it had something to do with Grindelwald changing the spell he used to lock the door, but he couldn't know for sure.

"Madame." he greeted, trying to sound professional in the face of someone who he most definitely did not want to see.

"Mr. Graves." she said, he hands were in her pockets. A stance she took when she wanted to seem unbothered. "I wasn't expecting you back."

"I changed my mind." he told her. "Resigning won't help anyone. If I want to prevent... **mistakes** being made, this is the best place to do it."

She didn't comment on that, but her eyes narrowed at him.

"Sorry about the mess." she said instead. "We had to go through everything. Take out everything that Grindelwald may have left here. He seemed to have made himself very comfortable here. Sending through lots of paperwork, okaying things we think he may have thought would help him in the long run."

"Yes, I'd hoped to go over that myself."

"Be sure to. I'll send Thornby by with what we've found. See if you can find any connections we might have missed."

She walked past him towards the door, brushing by his shoulder. He didn't look at her.

But she stopped just as she reached the door. She turned back and took her hands out of her pockets. She gripped the edge of the door.

"Percival." she said.

He turned to look at her. "Madame President?"

Her lips quirked downwards.

"I'm glad to see you back here." she told him, and then hesitated. "... But I'm afraid it might be too soon. Don't push yourself."

Her hand slid away from the door and she walked out.

Percival turned away from the door, and with a twitch of his head it closed behind him. He made his way over to his desk, which he hadn't sat at in what felt like ages, and took a seat. He leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath, let his eyes close and let out everything that was keeping his chest tight.

The light bulb in his desk lamp exploded.

He sighed, and while he was still alone, he fixed it with a quick flick of his wand.

He wasn't alone in his office for long. The President was right when she said Thornby would be by with what they had found, and boy, had they found a lot. Stacks of receipts and documents filed under Percival's name. Records that went missing and turned up in Percival's apartment.

And worst of all, a _Pensieve_.

Percival's blood ran cold, thinking back to all the time he spent passed out... Emotionally and physically exhausted, he could do nothing else, and he regretted it every day.

The memories found inside were indeed those of Percival's own mind. The one most commonly used for some reason was the one where... Where he had first seen Credence.

Percival told Thornby to leave it to him for now, that it was a personal matter and if anything were truly important about it, he would alert the Department immediately. Thornby stood aside, nodding, and left quickly after that. Percival shivered looking down at the bowl. And then slowly dipped into the memory that waited there.

Percival had just apparated into the alleyway that would soon become his and Credence's place of meeting. The place he would coddle and heal the young man because of this very memory. Mary Lou was in front of her church, her children scattered about handing out leaflets the best they could. Credence was easy to spot amongst them, though he often stooped his head lower to hide himself behind them. This did not stop Mary Lou from singling him out.

"Credence." she said, and her tone was that of warning. At the time, Percival did not understand what the warning was for, but now he saw that Credence's too-small-jacket button had come undone from his movements. Credence corrected this quickly, turning away from Percival's view.

"Credence, here." Mary Lou called to him.

Credence hurried over and Percival made his way out to get a better view. They could not see him, as this was just a memory, so he got as close as he could.

"Modesty has been acting out again." Mary Lou said, her eyes sharp, as if she blamed Credence for her youngest's behavior. "Take care of it. And do **_not_** go easy this time."

Credence started to shake, but dutifully turned toward his adoptive sister. As he got closer to her, she looked at him curiously and he reached out his hand.

"Ma said..." he tells her quietly, struggling to convey what he needs to with his eyes. He's trying so hard to keep his composure and Percival's heart aches. This boy, Obscurial or not, was not a monster. He did not enjoy hurting others...

Modesty looks down, not in fear, but in resignation. "Alright, Credence." she says softly, taking his hand.

Getting a closer look at them both, Percival realizes that he can't see Modesty's face the same way he can see Credence. Her face is blurry, and her image shifts as he tries to remember exactly what she looked like.

He had never met Modesty, and she hadn't been a priority to him at the time. His memory, whether in a pensieve or his own mind, could not bring up Modesty's image. She didn't even fully look like a boy or a girl... He had been there for Credence, and only Credence. Modesty had not even register to him.

Percival follows them now as he did then. Credence is shaking harder as he leads Modesty behind the church. He pulls his belt out of it's loops one handed, and it takes him a very long time as he's unable to steady his hand.

"It's okay, Credence." Modesty whispered to him.

And the dam in Credence broke as she said this. Credence sobbed loudly, choking on his words.

"I can't..." he told her. "I _can't_. I'm _sorry_." And he sank to the ground, crying, but still clutching her hand.

Modesty took the belt from his other hand and pulled herself out of his grip. Modesty shoved up her sleeve, bearing his skin, and raised the belt to hit herself with it. Before she could, Mary Lou walked briskly past Percival and straight down the alley. She had very clearly been expecting to see this.

She grabs the belt roughly from Modesty's hand and points back out into the street, expecting Modesty to leave the alley. Modesty does not move. Mary Lou's eyes narrowed, but she does nothing, instead she focuses on Credence.

"What did I say?" she says to him, not sounding perturbed in the slightest. "What did I tell you about doing as you're told, Credence? Are you trying let God down? Are you trying to let _me_ down?"

Credence shakes his head, but he's wracked with sobs. Credence is an ugly crier and it clearly does not help create sympathy for himself in Mary Lou's eyes. She grabs his arm and digs her nails in and she rolls up his sleeves.

She does not use the flat part of the belt to inflict punishment, and Modesty, as well as Percival, are forced to watch as Mary Lou repeatedly hits Credence with it.

Modesty flinches with every blow, just as Credence cries out. The alleyway seems to grow darker with every hit and Percival notices this time, the danger that fills the area. But right as it reaches a point that Percival knows he could no longer force himself to stand by, Mary Lou stops and the darkness subsides.

Credence cradles his arm tenderly and tries to pull the sleeve back down without whimpering. Mary Lou hands him his belt back and it slips from his hand to the ground.

"Next time, Credence," she says. "Do as I ask."

And she briskly walks back out, grabbing and pulling Modesty along with her. As the blurry child is pulled away, she looks back at Credence left on the ground. She reaches out to him. A few stray bricks fall from the broken building, only just missing Credence's bowed head.

If he had been looking for it before, Percival might have realized that those bricks did not come loose on their own, and that there were no clouds in the sky to darken the alley. But now Percival knows to look, and he knows that Credence could have done something horrible that day without meaning to.

Percival watches as the memory of himself rushes forward and slows before he can reach Credence. Credence is scrambling away from him, still crying, but trying to hide it behind his sleeve.

"I-I'm sorry, sir. Please ex-excuse me." the memory of Credence says.

"No, my boy. Don't be sorry." Percival says and steps slowly toward Credence. "I was simply wondering if you might allow me to help you up?"

"I-I don't... No, thank y-you, sir." Credence stammers out. "I must be going. P-pardon me, sir."

Credence gets to his feet as quickly as he can and grabs his belt before he takes off running, practically shoving Percival out of the way.

Percival watches him go and swears.

This was only the first attempt. It was then that he realized what Tina meant by Credence getting the worst of it. He'd understood why she asked him to help. But now, Credence is gone. Percival can no longer help Credence. Credence is **dead**.

But now, someone _else_ needs his help.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, everything sucks.
> 
> I actually had to look up Latin to make spells. Why don't we have, like, just a giant ass book of Harry Potter spells. Because, damn, would that be useful.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading my story!! Please bee sure to comment!! I'm literally just doing this for the attention. <3


	4. Drained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is a quick warning for blood! Obviously you won't see it, but you will read about it and it's existence in this chapter.

Dumbledore kept his promise about stopping when Credence wanted to. It was several potions and a few transfiguration spells later that Credence reached his limit. It wasn't that Credence felt weaker than before, if anything he was started to feel stronger, his jar certainly felt smaller to him when he rested inside of it.

But he was nervous... If he continued to grow and become stronger, would he lose control again? Would he hurt people? Dumbledore did not seem to share this concern. Newt was hesitant in the amount of freedom Credence would receive. He continued to put up the barrier for each session, always making sure to keep Credence in his jar until he was positive there would be no escape.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Credence." he would assure him each night. "I do trust you, and I know you would never _willingly_ harm us, but you aren't in full control. Until we can get you back into your proper shape, this is how it will have to be for now."

Credence understood. He didn't blame Newt in the slightest, but he wished he could say this to him, but Credence couldn't even speak. Credence knew he was a monster, he knew he could lose himself at any moment. He trusted Newt more than he trusted himself.

Things didn't change for what felt like a month. Credence continued to grow and strengthen, but only in the slightest of ways. He still fit in the jar, even when he felt sometimes like he wouldn't. But then things changed when Dumbledore brought out the small red vial with a tiny bronze dragon on the stopper.

"I would like to start by assuring you, Mr. Scamander, that the dragon this blood came from is alive and well. She's even recently laid eggs, much to the joy of her breeders."

Newt smiled at that. "I'm glad to hear it, Professor... But why do you have it exactly?"

"Well, I've been doing research on dragon's blood for quite a long time now. It is one of the most magical substances in the wizarding world," Credence assumed this was being said to him as he was sure Newt knew all about dragons. "I have discovered 6 uses for it so far, including cleaning particularly disgusting ovens. Each use has surprised me immensely, seeing as they never seem to have anything to do with each other. I thought we could give it a go today."

Dumbledore removed the stopper from the vial with a small 'pop'. Newt opened up Credence's jar for him and the vial was tipped over the opening. A single drop fell from it.

It did not hit the bottom of the glass.

" **Oh**." Dumbledore said, there was a hint of awe in his voice.

"Oh, indeed." Newt agreed.

Credence blinked at them.

He blinked again.

He had eyes again. Somehow, he could see through the rounded glass and see a magnified version of Newt and Dumbledore staring at him. Newt was grinning crookedly at him.

"This is magnificent." Newt said, breathlessly.

"I do believe we've discovered a 7th use for dragon's blood." Dumbledore stated happily. "And another argument for your case in protecting them."

"But even better, we're getting Credence back." Newt said happily.

Credence blinked again. It was so strange and the world seemed so bright in this... Classroom? There were rows of desks all around him. He remembered Newt telling him this was a school, but he had no idea they had been in a classroom this whole time.

"We'll need more of it, I think." Newt insisted, turning to Dumbledore. "Much more. I know it's expensive, but I have a few friends in Albania. They can lower the price significantly."

"My dear boy, there is no cost too high in this situation. Anything to help a young man such as Credence." Dumbledore informed him, very sincerely.

Credence shuddered and blinked.

He wasn't sure he was _ready_ to go back.

He wouldn't have much of a choice however when two weeks later Credence was placed in front of a metal tub filled with blood.

He felt as physically sick as this form would allow him. He shrank as much as he could in his jar, which by now wasn't very much. Newt looked excited as he rolled up his sleeves, and Dumbledore looked at Credence in reassuring ways.

"Don't worry." Newt told him, picking him up. "We have a theory. This is the best way to give your body the blood it needs to fully form again. After all, that's all we really are Credence. Just magic and blood. You'll be alright. We've got some clothes for you, and a bath ready for if it works."

Credence blinked and shuddered.

"Are we ready?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

Credence really didn't want to disappoint these two men after all the time and effort they put into trying to help him... Also there was always the chance it wouldn't work.

Newt unscrewed the lid and Credence exited slowly. He made his way over to the tub and recoiled slightly at the near black, red liquid that reflected him. He was a mass, or maybe just a cloud, of darkness. He could see his white eyes stand out against the particles of whatever he was made of. He slowly lowered himself into the blood.

It tasted surprisingly sweet.

But also _**very**_ disgusting.

The tub started to drain as more of his obscurus form poured into the basin. When all of him was in, the blood was practically gone and Credence gasped and sputtered, choking on the blood that coated his mouth and throat. He gripped the sides of the tub with his very solid, but very red hands, and heaved himself over the edge so he could throw up.

As he was coughing, and embarrassingly, crying, something soft was wrapped around him and he was gently lifted out. He tried to stand, but found that he had forgotten how to use his legs. He slipped, a streak of red left where his foot, his _foot_ , slid on the tile ground. But he didn't fall. For a split second Credence thought it was Mr. Graves who kept him upright.

Newt had his arms around Credence's shoulders. A once white towel wrapped around him. Dumbledore was on his other side, speaking softly to Credence.

"It's alright. You're alright now, Credence. You'll feel better soon."

Credence tried to keep his eyes open, but his vision was quite literally red with blood. He almost threw up again, but found there was nothing left to give. He was empty. He felt empty.

"Just through this door, Credence. We'll get you cleaned up." Dumbledore told him, opening the door to what appeared to be a bedroom.

There was a bath in the corner, only a curtain separated it from the rest of the room. Dumbledore helped Newt lift Credence into the tub and the water almost immediately went red. Credence squeezed his eyes shut, which were now stinging from both the blood and Credence's tears.

"A shower may be better." Dumbledore said, and the tub was drained.

The sides of the porcelain tub were streaked with blood, but was quickly washed away as the shower head spurted out water. Credence flinched at the feeling of it hitting his skin. He felt the blood leave his flesh as it was replaced with warm water. Credence tried to sit up the best he could, wanting it to get out of his hair.

A hand helped push him forward and another pair's rubbed what he hoped was soap into his short hair. Something was added to help the water slide smoother through his hair, and Credence tried not to enjoy the feeling.

It was only a few minutes later that the water ran clear. Credence sat there, enjoying the feeling for a bit before he looked up at the two men who helped him.

"I'm sorry." he said to them.

Both their brows furrowed in concern.

"Whatever for, my boy?" Dumbledore asked him.

Credence looked away. "You spent so much time on me, I just..." he shrugged one shoulder. "You already have students to take care of... Newt, you have a book to publish. I wasted your time."

"Credence," Newt said softly. "You most certainly are **not** a waste of time. Time is not a thing that can be wasted, especially when it's used to help someone."

Credence shook his head. "I've killed... I killed my mother. And Mr. Shaw."

"You didn't have any control over that." Newt told him. "It was the _**Obscurus**_. The parasite that's living off of your magic, that's what killed them."

"I destroyed New York. That was me. I _wanted_ to do that." Credence insisted.

"It was nothing that couldn't be fixed. You also helped expose the darkest wizard of our time. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't be in custody."

Credence shivered. The water wasn't cold, but his skin was covered with goosebumps anyway.

"If it wasn't for me... Mr. Graves never would have been captured in the first place."

"My dear boy," Dumbledore said. "That is not in anyway your fault. The system failed you, and he tried to correct it. The blame does not fall on you in any way."

Credence leaned forward and rested his head on his knees.

"Are you going to try and get rid of it?" Credence asked, barely heard over the sound of water.

"We will try." Newt told him. "But not at the cost of your life."

Credence nodded. He reached a hand out to turn off the water. Newt stood and handed him a towel that was thankfully not covered in blood. Credence wrapped it around himself and stood carefully, taking the hands that were offered to him. His legs shook as he stood on them, but did not collapse beneath him.

He was given a pair of warm pajamas to wear. He had never owned a pair of his own before... Dumbledore gestured to lead him out of the room, a hand laid gently on his back.

"Come now, we'll show you to your room, and I'll have a nice meal prepared for you." he said, smiling softly. "As soon as you've eaten we'll give you a chance to rest up for tomorrow."

Not thinking about what tomorrow might mean for him, Credence nodded and slowly walked out of the room. He avoided stepping on his own bloody footprints left from before.

~~~~

Queenie helped him cut his hair.

She had even bought a cheap, but efficient potion that helped him grow his hair back with minimal itching. She had a pair of old, but sharp scissors that she used to quickly, but expertly cut at his now shaggy head of hair.

"My mother used to cut our hair with these scissors. I once cut a boy in a foster home with these. He was pulling on my hair something awful, but he stopped after I nicked him on the arm." She told him, cutting the hairs on the side of his head.

"How old were you?" Percival asked, trying to stay as still as he could.

"I was 8 at the time. Me and Tina were in separate homes at the time."

Percival wanted to ask something, but he didn't know how to say it.

"Oh, no. You're kind to be concerned, but no. Other than I few mean little boys, I was sent to relatively decent places. Tina was older. She got the worst of it."

Percival frowned. He had another question on his mind, and it hurt to think about. The lamp nearby went out with a shatter of glass. Queenie jumped.

"Oh dear... You've been doing that quite a bit, haven't you?" Queenie said softly, bringing out her wand to repair that light. "And to answer your question, no. I never met Credence. But Tina would talk about him a lot. Bend your head down for me?"

Percival bent his head to his chest. He liked that he didn't have to say anything. He liked that he didn't have to hear his voice choke on his words.

"Tina worried about him a lot. That's just like her, I suppose. She was always a giver. She gives everything she can for others. For me. For Credence. For Newt. Even you, I suppose. She just has to learn to give to the right people... Credence... Credence needed her. She helped the best should could. But sometimes, even when you try your hardest, it doesn't always work out."

Percival clenched his fists hard enough to hurt. This time, all the lights in the apartment blew out, and they were left in darkness.

"Mr. Graves..." Queenie said in the dark. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone, but Grindelwald's fault. He was pushing Credence to the wrong place. He had you trapped. There was nothing you could do."

"Let's not talk about this, Queenie." His voice shook.

"It's eating you from the inside, Mr. Graves. You have to talk to someone."

"Why should I bother when you just know what's already in my head." Percival told her.

Queenie sighed. "The talking isn't for my benefit, Mr. Graves."

They heard the door to the apartment open. Tina stood there with her wand lit.

"Everything alright?" she asked. "The whole building's lights are out, they think it was some sort of power surge?"

"Oh, well... I was just cutting, Mr. Graves' hair is all. And the lights went out! No rhyme or reason!" Queenie exclaimed.

Tina gave them both a strange look and Percival avoided meeting her eye.

"Queenie, why don't you go repair the lights in the other room?" Tina asked.

Queenie nodded eagerly and set her scissors down on a table, she lit her wand and quickly retreated from the main room. Tina walked over to Percival, she pulled up a chair to sit next to his own.

"So," she said. "I was working on our bill."

"How's that going?" Percival asked, still not looking as her.

"Well, I think. With you as a representative, it's moving along pretty quickly. We're hoping it'll be presented in front of the M.C. within the next few months. A lot of people really liked that thunderbird. He's sort of our mascot."

Percival nodded along. He had yet to see the thunderbird himself, possibly because he doesn't look up much when he's walking around outside. But people at work were fond of it, talking abou 'Frank' when the gossip was scarce. 

"Hey." Tina said, and Percival turned towards her. "Is it Credence that's got you so upset?"

Percival sighed, and rubbed his knuckles against the space between his eyebrows, trying to relieve some of the pressure he felt.

"It's not _just_ Credence. But he's... He's a big part of it." Percival confesses. "I was going to save him."

Tina nods sympathetically. Her eyes were filling with tears. "I know what you mean... And you had more time with him that I did. I found him, but you... You took care of him."

"I tried to. I should have done _more_. I shouldn't have made him wait. He was all I thought about when I was trapped. I was thinking that he must have thought I abandoned him. I thought about finding him if I survived, I thought about how I would make it up to him. I **never** thought..." Percival's words get caught in his throat. "...I didn't think Grindelwald would use him. Grindelwald took my memories and he manipulated Credence. He used him in _my name_. Credence died _hating_ me. He died without knowing anything about how much I cared for him."

"He died not knowing that you were trapped." Tina added.

"That part doesn't matter."

"It does. Of course it does. You were suffering."

"He was suffering." Percival corrected. "He was suffering. Not just by his mother, and not just by Grindelwald. He was an _**Obscurial**_. His life was being sucked out of him by a _**parasite**_. For years. No wonder Grindelwald thought he was a squib, there was probably nothing left of his magic."

"There was no way to have known." Tina told him.

"I spent months with him. Months, Tina. I knew he had magic, I could feel it. But I couldn't even see it was depleting... It was being drained."

"I know they already asked you, but..." Tina bit her lip. "Did Grindelwald say anything to you? Anything at all?"

Percival shook his head. "He didn't say anything to me. I was blacked out half the time, and the rest of it was just... Trapped. I never saw him. I don't remember him taking my hair. I don't remember coming back to New York. He didn't care about me, Tina. I wasn't what he was here for."

"At least... And I _hate_ to say it, Percival, I truly do... But at least he didn't get what he came for."

Percival's heart ached and he closed his eyes, turning away.

He didn't get what he wanted.

He didn't get Credence.

Credence was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed last minute that I basically had Graves come to the same conclusions he did last chapter, but you know what???? FUCK IT. I ain't rewriting that shit. Fuck.
> 
> Please leave kudos if you haven't already, and PLEASE leave a comment even if you already have!!


	5. Looking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late and I'm tired.

Credence woke up slowly in the most comfortable bed he had ever lay in. The sheets were soft and the covers were warm. The bed was big enough that he could stretch out without hanging over the side and his feet didn't feel cold at all. He wanted to cry with how safe he felt in that moment.

He blinked his eyes open and looked around him. His room was nearly as large as the church, but far cozier. It was filled with cases of books and a fireplace that almost took up an entire wall. There was a chair nearby that had some clothes folded there and a bedside table that held a tray of food. Credence assumed it was for him, and he stretched his arm out to grab a piece of toast.

He examined his hand as he brought the toast to his mouth. He could feel things again. He could taste as well, he noted as the taste of buttered bread filled his mouth. He reached a hand up to touch his face and then his hair. His hair was the same, despite the weeks that had passed. The bare back of his head moved across his pillow and he enjoyed the softness there.

He didn't want to get up, but he knew he would have to. He forced himself up and changed as quickly as he could. The clothes were strange. They felt loose on him, although that could just be because he'd never worn well fitted clothes before, and what he originally thought was a coat trailed much lower than any coat he had ever worn. Perhaps it was a British thing, or even a witch thing.

He walked to the door and opened it slowly. And then nearly slammed it shut again.

A transparent man was floating outside his door. He looked to be made of silver and his neck was badly injured. The gore that was there made Credence recoil.

"Hello, sir!" the man said. He bowed to Credence and his head nearly fell off.

"H-hello." Credence answered, gripping the side of the door tightly.

"My name is Sir Nicholas, I was sent by Professor Dumbledore to fetch you this fine morning."

"Oh, uh... My name is Credence."

"It's a pleasure, sir. If you wouldn't mind following me?"

Sir Nicholas turned away from him and started floating away. Credence was stuck standing there for a moment, feeling terrified. But he didn't feel that Dumbledore would truley send the damned for him, and quickly scrambled to follow the apparition.

It led him to the room he barely remembered leaving last night, and Dumbledore sat at his desk at the head of the classroom. He smiled at Credence and nodded his head at Sir Nicholas.

"Thank you, Nicholas, I'll take it from here." Dumbledore said.  
  
The ghost nodded his head and then floated upwards, through the ceiling. Credence collapsed in a chair as he watched the- the spirit take his leave.

"Your first encounter with a ghost?" Dumbledore asked politely.

Credence nodded dumbly, still staring at the ceiling. Dumbledore chuckled, and put away some of the papers that lay on his desk.

"Credence, I'm afraid I must speak with you about something important."

Credence looked over to see a rather serious expression grace the man's face. So he was in trouble. Credence nodded and turned his head away to avoid eye contact.

"I must ask you exactly when you started repressing your magic."

Credence flinched. "I didn't... I didn't know. I wasn't... Ma- I mean Mary Lou... I didn't know I had any."

"Credence, please look at me." Dumbledore asked softly.

Credence looked up. Dumbledore did not look stern or angry. He looked sympathetic.

"Credence, Obscurials don't just happen when a child doesn't actively use their magic. A child can't help it, especially when they are unawares. They only happen when a child knows they have magic and try to stop it from coming out. So, I'll ask you again. When did you start repressing your magic?"

Credence's hands clasped together tightly, he squeezed them until they were white, the scar blending in seamlessly.

"When I was adopted, I think." he said quietly. "I used to make toys move on their own when I was a child, but... But Ma wouldn't have that. When she took me in she told me I had evil inside of me and I had to stop it coming out... So I did."

"Credence, has Newt explained what an Obscurus is to you yet?"

Credence shrugged. "Sort of. He tried to at least."

"An Obscurus is a parasite. It attaches itself to you when you suppress your magic, when you are most vulnerable, and it starts feeding on it. At first it's just what you should be using at that age, like you said, to make toys move or to help make your life a bit easier. But as time goes on it gets hungrier. It takes more and more until there is nothing left but your life force, and then it takes that as well. It will do what it can to protect it's host, but only because it's benefitting from your continued living."

Credence started to shake.

"Credence, most Obscurials don't live passed 10, but you are in your 20's are you not?"

"I'm 24." Credence told him.

"You are _immensely_  powerful, my boy, to have survived this long. Your obscurus has gone out of it's way to save you. This is not a normal thing, even for us wizards, which I'm sure we seem anything but normal to you."

"That's what... Mr. Graves, or um, Grindelwald told me. That I was a miracle for living so long. He said I could control it."

Dumbledore stayed quite for a moment.

"I don't know if you can, Credence. But even so, Newt would rather not risk your life any longer, and neither would I. If we can remove it, we will. However, this is still a risk to your life either way. It's ultimately up to you what we do."

Credence put his head in one hand, his lip trembling as he thought about it. How many times had he wanted to die? How many times had he begged God to release him? And now? Now, after knowing there was a place for him, that there were people who wanted him around? After Mr. Graves healed him, held him, and told him that he didn't need to suffer? After Tina saved him from his mother's wrath? After Newt worked to save him?

He didn't want any of their efforts to go to waste.

Credence looked up again, trying to keep his gaze steady with Dumbledore's.

"Take it out of me. If I die... At least I won't hurt anyone again."

Dumbledore nodded gravely, and closed his eyes.

"I pray it doesn't come to that."

  
An hour later, Credence was laid out on a table. His shirt was open and a bowl was placed on his stomach. The bowl was filled with... Something? A potion he was told, that would allow them to see the obscurus inside of him and how much damage it had done to him. Newt placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly.

"No matter what we see, Credence, it doesn't mean a death sentence. We'll do whatever we need to to make sure you live." Newt says softly.

Credence squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't afraid to die. He wasn't afraid of hell. Even if he hadn't murdered his ma and Shaw, he was a witch, he was born damned. It didn't matter.

"Are we ready?" Dumbledore asked. Newt nodded, not moving away from Credence's side.

Dumbledore tapped the bowl 3 times with his wand and then said very clearly "Monstrahimi".

The bowl's contents glowed and Credence felt like whatever was inside there was somehow attached to him. If someone tried to remove the bowl, surely he would come undone.

Newt leaned over and examined the bowl. His face was confused and grim at the same time.

"There's the Obscurus right there, but..." he trailed off.

"It's quite small." Dumbledore finished for him, but Newt shook his head.

"That's not it. It appears that way, but look at the edges. It has no end. Not in the sense that a circle has no end, but it melts into... Into Credence."

Newt's grip on Credence tightened to the point that it hurt and Credence flinched violently, trying to get away. Newt let go immediately, not looking over at Credence.

"It's not feeding off of him." Newt said. "At least not in the way we thought."

"How could that be?" Dumbledore asked, glancing at Credence worriedly.

"Because _**Credence**_ is feeding off of it instead." Newt said. "This is unprecedented. No wonder you've lived for so long, Credence, it isn't hurting you at all. You reversed it. Your magic must be so strong, so powerful that... that when the Obscurus latched onto you, **you** latched onto it stronger. You overpowered it. You consumed it."

Credence shook his head. "I couldn't have. I didn't mean to- I don't know how."

Newt finally turned to look at him. He looked... amazed.

"Credence, you were a _child_. Of course you didn't know how, it just... happened." Newt told him.

"Should we remove it?" Dumbledore asked.

Newt shook his head. "I don't think we could if we wanted to. It's a part of Credence now. If we remove it, we'll be doing more harm than good. I don't know if it would kill him, but if we don't have to there would be no point."

Credence stared at the ceiling.

So it was him.

He really did kill.

"I'm a murderer." he whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

Newt placed his hands on the sides of Credence's face and turned him to face him. Newt was smiling. Credence thought of Mr. Graves and his tears spilled over.

"No, Credence. You haven't been taught any control. Not yet. You didn't hurt anyone who didn't hurt you. The world was cruel to you, and your magic tried to fix it. That's what it's suppose to do. Nothing it did was your fault."

Newt took his hands away and removed the bowl. Credence noted how different it was from when Mr. Graves had removed his hands from Credence. It was always like he didn't want to, and it had always felt like a caress. Newt did not have that same sentiment behind his movements.

Credence sat up and looked at Dumbledore. Credence could not place the exact expression he had on his face. It was something sorrowful and pleased, but... Mostly confused. Dumbledore noticed him looking and smiled.

"I believe it's time for you to take a trip to Diagon Alley." he said.

Credence furrowed his brow. "Why?" he asked. His face was drained of blood in an instant of fear. Was he being forced out?

"For a wand." Newt told him, happily patting him on his back. "You're far overdue for one."

~~~~~

Percival walked through the Auror office avoided the eyes of those he worked with. He stared straight ahead, his back straight and his head held high. His steps were even and loud on the floors, and he took comfort in the sound. The other MACUSA workers were quick to step out of the way.

Good.

It wasn't that he disliked his co-workers, not at all. He was fond of quite a few of them. The problem was that he didn't feel like he knew them anymore. He didn't know who Lester's latest fling was, or if Rumfold had been demoted yet, or even if Mary Anne was pregnant or if she had just gained weight while he was gone. Queenie had done her best trying to fill him in on the gossip, but generally she ran in different circles than him. She'd offered to walk with him, graze over their minds, but he felt that would be too invasive of him.

So he walked amungst strangers until he reached his office, where he closed the door in relief and leaned against his desk. He took the time to breathe before he finally sat down at it at got to work on his bill.

It was seperate from the one he was working on with Tina. That one was already on it's way to being a major difference in MACUSA. This one, however... This could be seen as an act of war, and he didn't want Tina's name anywhere near it.

He wanted to make it so no-majs could at least interact with wizards and witches. He wanted young witches and wizards to get to know no-majs, understand them. Understand why the world did not just belong to those with magic. He wanted no-maj born magical children to be able to tell their parents about their school. He wanted Queenie to be able to be with whoever she wanted... But most of all, he wanted to make sure no Obscurials had a chance to come to fruition ever again. He's glad to have the time alone to work on it.

He works at his desk for a few hours, but he quickly puts the bill away in his desk drawer as someone knocks on his door. Percival is careful to straighten his back and breathe deeply before calling out, "Come in."

Tina opened the door, smiling at him, and his shoulders almost immediately lost their tension. He smiled back pleasantly.

"Tina, how are you this afternoon?"

"I'm doing alright." she answers, but hurries over o his desk, her hand outstretched.

Percival sees what's in her hand and immediately stands. He takes the slip of paper that Tina hands him and stares at it for a bit, before looking up at her.

" _Thank you_ ," he tells her, sincerely. "I'm so glad you found her."

Tina shrugged. "She wasn't that hard to find. I only saw her from a distance, but she's a pretty quiet kid. Stays by herself for the most part."

"How old is she?" Percival asks.

"Only 8." Tina tells him, folding her hands.

"She has a few years left before Ilvermorny..." Percival mutters to himself before pocketing the piece of paper and walking around his desk to the door. "I shouldn't waste any time. Keep an eye on things for me?"

"Of course. Should I expect to see you later?" Tina asks.

Percival pauses for a moment, then nods. "Yes, I think so. Have another bed prepared."

And he leaves, not giving Tina time to respond. He apparates as soon as he's able. Appearing uptown at the address that he was given.

The orphanage is nice. Nicer than the ones he's used to having to visit for various work related reasons. There's a fenced off playground next to the building where children currently run and play without fear or worry. He glances at them, but ultimately ignores them in favor of heading to the front door. The inside is just as nice as the outside and he desperately hopes that it isn't just an illusion to make him feel secure in the children's safety.

"May I help you?" a young woman at a desk asks when she spots him.

"Yes, please." he says and brings out a badge to show her. It's a no-maj police badge given to him for specific situations where he was forced to question no-majs. "I'm with the police. I'm looking for a young girl, Modesty Barebone. She's a witness in a case involving the death of her adoptive mother."

The woman's eyes went wide and she nodded. She stood up from her desk immediately and gestured for him to follow her. "She's in her room at the moment. I'm afraid she doesn't talk much, and we weren't sure if it was because of what happened, or if she is just naturally quiet. But she doesn't like to play with the other kids much..."

"Understandable of course. Trauma can make children feel iscolated. I'll see if I can help her open up a bit." Percival says, knowing nothing about children if he was really honest.

They came to a small room with two beds on opposite walls. A young blond girl sat quietly on the bed farthest from the door. Her hair was blond and thin, tied up tightly on her head. She was holding a stick in her hand. When they came in, her eyes immediately rose to meet Percival's. She didn't say anything, but he could tell that she recognized him even if he didn't recognize her.

"Modesty, this man would like to speak to you about your mother." the young woman told her. "Are you alright to be left alone for a few moments?"

Modesty glanced away from Percival to meet the eyes of her caretaker and nod her head.

"I'll be back soon." she told Percival before turning away and back down the hall.

Percival gave a small smile. "Modesty? My name is Percival Graves. Do you mind if I come in?"

Modesty shook her head, turning the stick around in her hands. He walked in and sat on the bed opposite of hers.

"You're the witch." she told him as he shifted to get comfortable.

He paused.

"Am I?" he asks softly.

She nods, her eyes boring into his. "I remember you talking to me before Credence turned into that dark thing. You were talking to him. Did you make him into that thing?"

Percival shook his head. "I didn't."

She looked confused for a moment, but it passed quickly. "I believe you. You seem different from before."

"I am. That wasn't me you talked to before."

"I didn't say anything. You talked, but I didn't. You told me I was safe, but I didn't believe you."

"You were right to. You weren't safe with him."

"Who was he, if he wasn't you?" Modesty asked quietly.

"A very evil man. His name is Grindelwald."

"Was he a witch?"

"He wasn't a very nice one."

"And you are a nice one?"

Percival's lips twitched slightly. "I try to be. Are you?"

"Nice?"

"Sure."

Modesty shrugged. "I don't know yet."

Percival searched her face. She did not act like any child he knew of did. She was disturbingly serious in her expression and he knew that she was seeing more of him than he was seeing of her. He wondered for a moment if she was like Queenie, but she didn't seem to be reacting to his thoughts.

"What's that?" he asked her, looking at the stick in her hands.

She bent her head, and set it next to her.

"It's nothing." she told him, not meeting his eyes any longer.

"You can tell me, Modesty. I won't mind the answer." he tells her.

"I don't **want** to tell you." she says, meeting his eye again in a glare.

"Do you mind if I take a guess?" He decides to take her silence as a yes. "... Is it a wand?"

She grabs it again. Clenching it in her fist, she stares at him as if trying to gouge his intentions. Percival doesn't react beyond a smile. He looks back down the hall through the door to make sure no one is there.

"Do you want to see mine?" he whispers to her.

Her eyes widen. "You have one?"

"I'm a witch, aren't I? Of course I have one."

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out his wand. She gasped at the sight of it and he can't help but feel pride. He holds it out to her and she hesitantly reaches out to hold out.

"It's made of Bog Wood, 15 inches. Wampus Cat hair at the center."

"A what cat?" she asks.

" _Wampus_. It's a magical creature. Wands tend to keep a piece of a magical animal of some sort at it's core. It's helps us channel our magic."

"I had one before... It wasn't real, but it was pretty. Credence found it... Ma thought it was his and she was gonna beat him for it..." Modesty handed the wand back. "I tried to tell her it was mine, but... Credence turned into that black thing and I ran away."

Percival puts his wand away and reaches out to Modesty. She sets her hand in his. "Modesty... I have to tell you something."

"I know." she tells him.

"You know?"

"I'm a witch. And so is Credence." she says.

Percival closes his eyes, an overwhelming sadness washes over him. "Yes, Modesty. But that's not what I need to tell you."

"Oh..."

Percival places his other hand over her small one. "Modesty, I'm so sorry... Credence is gone."

"Gone?"

"Yes. He was killed."

She slips her hand out of his own.

"You aren't lying, are you?" she asked softly, her eyes filling with tears.

"Never. I would **never** lie about this."

"Was it my fault?" she asked. "Was it because of my wand? Because I ran away?"

"No. It wasn't your fault at all." Percival told her, hoping she understood that she had no part in any of it.

She fiddled with her stick for a moment, tears spilling down her cheeks. And then she brought it to her other hand and firmly snapped it in two. She threw the pieces off the bed and sobbed.

"Why would you break it?" Percival asked.

"It wasn't real. It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. It was yours."

She shook her head and crossed her arms. Percival was at a loss as to what to do. He couldn't deal with his own emotions let alone a little girl's. He fidgeted for a moment while Modesty cried silently across from him. When Credence needed comfort he would seek it out, making it easier for Percival to give him what he needed. Mostly Credence would hunch his shoulders lower his head to Percival's chest, and Percival eventually got better as telling what sort of comfort Credence was seeking, whether it was a hug, or for Percival to physically lift his head up for him, or to softly kiss the top of his head.

"Would you... Would you like a hug?" Percival asked her.

Modesty nods her head and leaves her bed to rush into his arms. He wraps his arms around her firmly, but gently. He smooths his hand over her tight braids and she tightens her grip on him. For a single moment, Percival's eyes water. He blinks it back however when the young woman at the desk comes back. He smiles weakly at her, as she leans in the doorway.

"Were you wanting a few more minutes?" she asks.

Percival clears his throat. "No, no... I think we're good here." he says, and Modesty slides out of his arms.

She rubs at her eyes and looks away from him. She doesn't say anything as he stands.

"Actually..." Percival says, looking at Modesty. "I was wondering just how I might go about adopting a child here."

The woman's smile is blinding, and Modesty looks shocked, her nose and eyes still red.

"Oh, yes! Of course! We'll have to get the paperwork for you."

He fills out what he's given, planning on having the proper MACUSA offices take over as soon as he can. Modesty is a magical child after all, it's only proper that she be raised in a magical home. Modesty grabs his hand almost immediately as he stands to leave. In his other hand he holds a small bag of her possessions and the walk out together.

He hopes that Tina listened to him when he told her to have a spare bed ready.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a surprising amount of research was needed for Graves' wand. I did some guess work with the wood, looking at a replica of the wand I found out how long it was, and the Harry Potter wiki told me it's core. So I went with Bog Wood because it seemed more likely than African Blackwood for the time period (thank you online Wood Database that exists for some reason), and I'm now going to go ahead and assume that Graves was in Wampus house at Ilvermorny because it's his wand core. Also it kinda makes sense with his job.
> 
> Pleeease leave a comment!!! I love comments!!! Also I really appreciate kudos. <3 So if not a comment, maybe consider leaving kudos. :)


	6. Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would once again like to thank the online Wood Database. It really came through for me this chapter. There's literally a page of the top ten strongest woods.

Credence was very nervous as Newt led him through a bar. It was filled with all sort of strangely dressed folks and despite knowing that these were his people now, Credence shied away from them all. They paid them no mind as Newt led them to a back room, taking out his wand. Newt put down his suitcase as he tapped the brick wall in front of him. Credence nearly jumped out of his skin as the bricks moved away to show a very busy street.

Credence had heard the saying _"there was magic in the air"_ before, but he'd never experienced it until this moment. There were witches and wizards everywhere, Credence saw flying brooms and magic carpets, candies that looked nothing like anything he had seen before, creatures running rampant in the street, things that his Ma would have considered pests were held close by girls and boys alike. His eyes were wide, trying to take it all in.

Newt picked up his suit case and smiled at the expression on Credence's face.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" he asked.

Credence could only nod as he followed Newt out into the street.

There were no cars or anything of the sort. The lanterns in the street were not powered by gas, but instead had what looked like floating lights with wings buzzing around inside. There was no sidewalk as there was no danger and the streets were walked with no worry.

He still looked around him for danger, but felt none. They walked past a pet shop, and a place selling very expensive looking brooms, there were crowds of children eating candy as if it was an everyday delight and Credence felt like crying with how much he loved it. It was just like Mr. Graves had promised him, but even more so.

Credence paused in front of a bookshop and peared in through the giant glass window. The books were flying about in between shelves as if sorting themselves into their correct order. He saw a woman open one book only for a flood of water to pour out. She quickly shut it and laughed with her friend who had handed it too her. Credence was mesmerised.

"Can you read, Credence?" Newt asked politely from behind him.

Credence nodded. "Yes, although there are a lot of words I don't know. But I can read the Bible and the newspaper without much trouble."

"We'll have to stop here after Ollivander's. Get you some books on basic spells." Newt told him, patting his back quickly. "If you ever need any help with spells, I'll be right near by to answer any questions."

Credence turned to follow Newt through the crowds again, turning back only once to see a book shoot lightning from it's pages.

Ollivanders was not nearly as showy as the other shops. In fact, it was quite dusty. Squinting through the window, Credence could see stacks and stacks of thin boxes on shelves and tables. It was filled to the brim.

Newt held the door open for him, and Credence hesitantly went inside. It was just as dim and dusty as it had looked through the window. Credence was led forward with a hand on his back, straight up to the front desk.

"Mr. Ollivander!" Newt called out. "I have a customer for you!"

A man, who was looking quite old, but fit walked out from behind a shelf. His eyes were pale and they pierced Credence's immediately before glancing over to Newt.

"Mr. Scamander." he greeted. "Ash and lime, 14 inches, with a unicorn bone core. I added bits of the shell from a mermaid's necklace as well if I remember correctly. It was quite serious for a wand, if you ask me. But I was quite proud of it, if I say so myself."

"It's served me very well, Mr. Ollivander." Newt assured him.

"You're not here to replace it, I hope?" Mr. Ollivander asked, narrowing his eyes.

"No, sir. We're actually here for Credence." Newt said, gesturing to Credence, who jumped a little at his name.

Ollivander looked back at Credence, his gaze was unblinking. "I have not met you before. I would remember if I had."

"No, I'm afraid not." Newt said. "We're here for Credence's first wand."

"First wand?" Ollivander asked, stepping closer and pulling out measuring tape from no where.

"Yes, sir." Credence said softly, flinching when Ollivander raised his arms up for him.

"American, are you? Or is that Canadian, I can never tell." Ollivander says as he quickly measures the length of Credence's arms.

"American, sir." Credence tells him as he forces Credence's shoulders back to straighten them.

"That could be a problem." Ollivander states, measuring Credence's height. "I don't get many Americans in my store, not unless it's an emergency."

"I understand."

"I doubt that very much." Ollivander tells him, and measures the space from Credence's eyes to his ears.

The tape disappears just as it had appeared and Ollivander goes back behind his desk, ducking underneath the counter. He reappears with a thin box, exactly like all the other boxes and opens it. He takes out a dark wooded wand and hands it to Credence.

"Try this one." he says. "Made from walnut, 12 inches exactly, mermaid hair core. Quite flexible."

Credence only holds the wand for a moment before it explodes in his hand. His eyes go wide with horror as he stares at where it had been.

"I'm so sorry!" he practically shouts.

"Oh _my_..." Ollivander says, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh dear..." Newt says. "Um, Mr. Ollivander... Credence may be a bit more powerful than the average wand... Not to say any of your wands are average, but he made need something with a bit more... Strength?"

"Strength..." Ollivander muttered, turning his back on Credence who is now holding his hand close to his chest.

Ollivander kicks his wall ladder over to slide it past the shelves, and then climbs where it stopped for him. He pulls out another box and opens it, pearing inside. He climbs down with it and hands it to Credence from across the desk.

"Verawood. 13 and a quarter inches. Unicorn horn."

Credence does not move to take it. Ollivander rolls his eyes.

"Boy, I have plenty of wands to spare. Now take it."

Credence obeys immediately. It does not explode. Credence hesitates to smile about it.

"Wave it a bit." Newt instructs him.

Credence's barely there smile disappears and he looks up at Ollivander who is watching him curiously. He nods. Credence's hand shakes slightly as he waves it, away from both Ollivander and Newt. Blackness erupts from the end, all too familliar to Credence, and it blows out the glass of the window he didn't realize he was aiming at.

Credence drops it imediately and steps away.

"Mr. Scamander, is there something **else** I may need to know in my choosing of a wand for this boy?" Ollivander asks, his voice is steady, but his eyes show fear.

Newt walks quickly over to Mr. Ollivander and Credence is left to look down at the wand on the floor in shame. Newt is talking in a hushed voice to the wandmaker. Credence does not hear what he says, but he hears Dumbledore's name from Ollivander. When Newt steps away, and walks back toward Credence and places a hand lightly on his arm.

"It's alright, no one gets it their first time." he assures Credence.

"Actually, there _are_ a few who do. But I assure you, it's a rare occurrence." Mr. Ollivander says from where he's crouched in front of a shelf. He brings out 3 boxes at once and brings them over to the desk. He opens each and sets them in a row.

Credence steps forward, not meeting his eye.

"Pick the one that calls out to you." Ollivander tells him.

Automatically Credence goes for the darkest one. He thinks of Mr. Graves' wand as he handles it and is pleased when it doesn't shatter in his hand.

"Gidgee. Dragon heartstring. Eleven inches."

He waves it. The wood merely sets on fire in his hand. Ollivander puts it out with water from his own wand.

"Choose another." he says. He is being very patient with Credence, more than he thinks he deserves.

Credence pick up the one with the unusual light and dark pattern.

"Snakewood. Horned Serpent Horn. _Very_ American. 12 and a half inches."

Again, this one does not break, but when Credence waves it a shelf falls over, nearly crushing Ollivander.

"The final one, then." Ollivander tells him, brushing himself off from his near death experience.

Credence takes the last one quickly. He runs his thumb up the handle and finds that it feels ribbed. The wood is a deep reddish brown, but the handle and the very tip are a stark white. He looks up to see if Ollivander will say anything about this wand, but he simply looks on patiently at Credence.

Credence waves the wand and a streak of luminesant white slips from his wand as if he were drawing in the air. Newt is smiling delightedly at him and Ollivander nods his head in approval.

"That wand is important to me." he says as he rings it up on the register, and it Credence thinks it's odd that he would say that.

"Why would you sell it then?" Credence asks.

Ollivander smiles slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "The wand chooses the wizard, young sir. I do not choose for it. If it's master arrives, I cannot stand in it's way." he leans on the desk as if about to tell a secret. "That wand was made of grief."

Credence frowns at that. "What do you mean?"

"I watched my mother die. I had never seen anyone die before. But I watched the light leave her eyes, and with that I had gained the unfortunate ability to see a creature called a Thestral." Ollivander told him. "And then, low and behold, a mother Thestral died in front of me. I do not know the cause, but it felt like fate, and I remembered the stories of Death and the three brothers. So I took it's tail bone, since it had no tail hair, and with it I created that wand. It's bone is bared from the wood, Heartwood to be exact. That is the only wand I made using any piece of a Thestral, and I believe that I never will again. It is 14 and a quarter inches, and it is in constant grieving. It is made of strong wood, and it's core is exposed to the world. It's a strong wand, though vulnerable.

Credence blinks and looks down at the wand. His thumb runs over the bone handle, and he can't help put think that it suits him.

Ollivander looks over at Newt. "And now, for payment?" he says.

Newt startles for a second. "Oh yes! Of course! One moment, please."

Newt lays his suitcase on the floor of the shop and opens it. He decends into it and comes back a moment later with a creature. It's mouth looks like a duck bill and it's covered with short quills. It squeals in Newt's grip, but Newt is smiling. Newt flips it upside down and gold coins fall out of it's pouch. Credence and Ollivander only stare at it and when what Newt seems to think is enough money, he hands the creature to Credence. Credence panics for a second, but it doesn't squirm from his grip. Instead it yawns.

"How much is it then?" Newt asks.

"10 galleons and a sickle." Ollivander tells him, and Newt scrapes the money off the floor to give it to Ollivander.

As soon as he's got enough, the quilled thing jumps out of Credence's hands and scurries to pick up the rest of the coins on the ground, stuffing them back in his pouch. Newt picks it up once it's done and stuffs it into his pocket.

"Have a wonderful day, Mr. Ollivander." Newt tells him, picking up his suitcase once more.

"And you." Ollivander says, and Credence is ushered out hastily.

Once they were a distance away from the shop, Credence turns to Newt. "We aren't going to pay for the wand I broke?"

"Ollivander understands how wands work. Sometimes, they get broken. Frankly, he makes enough to be able to afford the costs, but he would never hold one responsible for the wrong wand given."

Credence does not feel assured, but he accepts that there's nothing he can do for it.

They nearly walk past the bookshop again, but Credence stops in front of the window again. This time, he notes the books that are in the window and not just the ones behind them. One catches his eye and Newt takes notice.

"Tales of Beedle the Bard." Newt reads. "My mother used to read that to me. Would you like to get it?"

"I can't pay you back. For any of it." Credence sighs.

"Nonsense. This is part of your education. Let me buy it for you and we'll pick up a book on spell basics as well. I did promise you, after all."

To pay this time, all Newt does is stick his hand in his pocket and come up with exact change in his hand. They exit the shop with Newt looking satisfied, and Credence feeling dazed. Credence can't help but hug his new books to his chest, while his hand tightens around his wand.

He's starting to finally feel like he belongs.

  
~~~~~~~

  
Sneaking Modesty upstairs into Tina and Queenie's apartment was more difficult than Percival anticipated. It wasn't that she was incapable of being quiet, but she insisted on staying as close to him as possible, which caused him to step in the wrong places as he went up. Tina was able to usher them inside quickly enough though, calling down to her landlady that she had merely forgot something downstairs and had just come back up from retrieving it.

Queenie was quick to greet them at the door, smiling wide as Modesty stood tall next to Percival, although her grip tightened on his hand. Queenie was kind and gracious with giving Modesty as much food as she could eat. Tina stood more to the side, smiling sweetly, but still glancing at Percival with a worried look on her face.

But that was alright. Percival had a plan.

He was already selling his home, and looking for a new one. He had been looking since Tina took him in, somewhere with enough room for him to forget. Somewhere he wouldn't feel enclosed or trapped anymore. Somewhere big.

He'd had a few places picked out already, and he planned on taking Modesty to see them that weekend. Maybe take her to get some ice cream if she got bored... They needed to get to know each other after all, and finding a home together would be the best way to do it.

When dinner was done, and Modesty started to nod off at his side, Percival lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed Tina had prepared for her. It was right next to Queenie's, and while Percival understood that his magic may be a bit too unstable at the moment, he couldn't help, but feel that the girl that would be his daughter could be safe in the same room as himself. He would be sure to talk to TIna about it tomorrow, he thought as he laid Modesty in her bed. He realized as soon as she laid down she would be better off in sleep clothes, so, guiltily, he shook her awake.

She blinked her eyes open and stared up at him in confusion.

"Modesty? Modesty, would you mind putting on your night gown? I'll give you some privacy while I go find something to read to you."

She nodded and forced herself to sit up. Percival handed her her bag of belongings and quickly slipped past the curtain and to a bookshelf. He stared at the titles blankly, unable to really focus on what exactly an 8 year old might enjoy.

"Need some help?" Tina asked from behind him.

He turned and smiled at her. "That would be nice. I was hoping I could read Modesty a bedtime story."

"You don't remember any stories from when you were a kid?" she asked, scanning the shelves.

"Only the ones I read on my own, and they weren't exactly what the other kids were reading."

Tina nodded and reached out to grab a thick book. "Here, try this one. Babbity Rabbity was always Queenie's favorite. Why not try it on Modesty? It might help ease her into the magical world."

Percival took the book from her hand and examined the cover. "Tales of Beedle the Bard. My sister used to read this."

"Can't go wrong with the classics, ya know?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right..."

"Hey." Tina said, and Percival looked away from the book to her. "You do know that if this is going to work, you're going to have to start talking to someone, right?"

Percival felt shame creep up his throat. He nodded, and opened up the book. "I do know. And I will." He glances up at her skeptic face. "I will. I'll be better for her."

"Just try, alright?"

"For you, Tina, I will try anything." Percival told her.

A smile broke across her face. Percival looked down at the random page he had opened up to. He smiled up at TIna.

"Babbitty Rabbitty it is then. Do you want to join us?"

Tina shook her head. "I would like to, but... But she's your family now. She should hear it from you."

"You cant go wrong with a little help sometimes." Percival said, tilting his head. "I'm not going to suddenly ignore you after I find somewhere new."

"I know that, but still. We wouldn't want her getting any wrong ideas." Tina insisted. She put a hand on his shoulder and guided him back to where Modesty was peering out from the bedroom curtain.

"Are you all ready for bed?" Percival asked her, and she nodded her head quickly.

He reached out his hand and she took it, letting him lead her back to bed. He tucked her into the bed the best he could and when she assured him that she was comfortable enough, he sat at her feet. He reopened the book, cleared his throat and began to read.

"A long time ago, in a far off land..."

 

"And they all have wands?" Modesty asked, clinging to Percival's hand as they walked down the street.

"Indeed they do. There are one or two creatures that are not allowed wands, but they don't particularly need them."

"Will I need a wand?"

"Someday, yes. When it's time for you to go to school, you will get your own wand."

"I get to to go to _school?"_

"You do indeed."

Tina smiled from behind Modesty. 

"It's really not that exciting. Right now, Percival is stuck on paperwork duty, so he'll be stuck sitting around." she told Modesty.

"Can't you just use your magic for that?" Modesty asked, her forehead wrinkling.

"Magic can't do everything for us." Percival informs her.

He pushes open the door to the Woolworth building and allows Tina and Queenie to enter before him and Modesty. They head to the elevator, Modesty's eyes wide as she stares at all the magic that surrounds her. She halts when she sees Red operating the elevator.

"Mr. Graves, sir." Red greets. "Who might the young Miss be?"

"Red, this is Modesty. She's coming to work with me until I can find someone suitable to watch over her." Percival lowers his voice as he bends down to Modesty's height. "Modesty, this is Red. He's a house elf. Do you remember Queenie explaining house elves to you?"

Modesty's voice was small. "... Yeah."

She gripped Percival's hand so hard he felt his bones squeeze together. Percival's stands up again and smiles apologetically at Red.

"Sorry, she's a bit shy."

"It's no issue, Mr. Graves. Auror offices?"

"Yes, thank you."

Modesty steps forward with no issue, but stays as far from Red as Percival's reach would allow her. They got off at the normal spot, and Percival felt much more secure walking through the offices than he had been since he was released from the hospital. Modesty's returned confidence and wonder as she walked through the offices became his own. He smiled at his coworkers and they were confused, but pleasant as they smiled back, looking from him to the little girl at his side.

Percival led her to his office and pulled his wand out to open his door. Modesty smiled at this and Percival felt lighter from it. He let go of her hand when they went into the office and she walked slowly inside, looking around.

"I'm sorry it's not terribly interesting." he told her.

Modesty went up at sat at his desk chair, and smiled at him. "It's fine."

Percival walked over to her and lifted her out of the seat, she screamed in delight as he spun her around, before sitting down and placing her in his lap.

"This is where it gets boring, I'm afraid." he told her, pulling forward his stack of paperwork. "If you'd like, I could give you something to draw on."

"Alright." Modesty agreed.

Percival allowed her use of his fountain pen while he used a basic quill. They were each busy with their own work until a knock came to the door. Percival merely waved his wand and the door opened.

Seraphina Piquery walked in, only to freeze when she saw Modesty drawing at Percival's desk.

"Hello, Madame President." Percival greeted.

Modesty looked up in confusion. She leaned towards Percival and whispered to him.

"Isn't the President a man?" she whispered.

"The no-maj President is a man. For us witches, our president is Madame Piquery. Modesty, say hello to the President of MACUSA."

Percival's cold eyes met Seraphina's, whose own glanced down at the little girl in his lap.

"Hello, Mrs. President." Modesty greeted, raising her hand to wave a little.

"It's _Miss_ President." Percival corrected. "She's unmarried."

"Percival, could I have a word?" Seraphina asked, her teeth clenched.

"Sure you can, Seraphina." Percival tells her, not bothering to get up.

Modesty continued to stare at the President in that same way she does when she's trying to figure them out. Her gaze didn't break as Seraphina walked closer to the desk.

"Percival. A **_word_**." she said.

"I heard you the first time." he told her. "I'm listening."

"I meant alone."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not leaving Modesty alone. You'll excuse my paranoia, but I've been having some trouble trusting those who work in this office right now."

"Get Tina down here to watch her then."

"Miss Goldstein is busy right now, Madame President."

"She feels guilty about something." Modesty told him quietly. "Everytime she looks at me, she feels guilty."

"She should, Modesty." he tells her, not bothering to keep the venom out of his voice.

"Did you bring this girl here to mock me, Percival?" Seraphina asks, accusatory.

"No, Sera, I brought her here because I'm Modesty's guardian. Believe it or not, not everything I do has to do with **you**."

Seraphina did not say anything to that. Instead she walked back toward the door and leaned out, only her head outside of the office.

"Goldstein!" he yelled. "Get in here!"

Seraphina calmly walked back inside and crossed her arms as Tina came running into the office.

"Y-yes, Madame President?" she asked, breathlessly.

"Take this little girl out for ice cream. I need to speak with Mr. Graves."

Tina glanced between Seraphina and Percival, before clearing her throat, and guiltily looking at Percival. Piquery outranks him. If Tina wants to avoid more trouble, she has no choice but to listen to her.

Percival sighs and nudges Modesty a bit. "Go ahead. Stay close to Tina for me."

Modesty slid out of his lap and walked slowly towards Tina, taking her hand. She looked back at Percival who forced a smile for her. She was wholly unconvinced, but said nothing.

Seraphina closed the door behind them.

" _There_. You got me alone. Now what?" he asked.

Seraphina doesn't say anything, just shaking her head and rubbing at the space between her eyes. She walks around the room for a moment, and Percival leans back in his chair, rolling his eyes.

But then she steps forward and slaps a file on his desk. He looks at it, and the blood drains from his face. He opens his desk drawer, only to see what he already knows.

It's empty. The file is now on his desk.

"Care to explain this?" Seraphina asks.

"There's nothing to explain. You read it." he tells her.

"No, you need to _explain_ yourself." she orders. "You need to tell me why."

"You know why, Sera." he tells her.

"No, Percival, I don't. You have been a **completely** different person since you came back. You have lost control of your magic, you're going behind my back, you don't talk to your colleagues anymore."

"Is that me, Sera? Or is that just Grindelwald you're thinking of?" he mutters darkly.

"How **_dare_** you-"

"How dare I? You are accusing me of being part of his cult, and now that I'm trying to fix what he's done-"

"This bill does not _fix_ anything, Percival! It plays right into what he wants!"

"Wanting children to be safe and secure in who they are is not playing into anything he wants. If we do this on our own terms-"

"There are no _terms_." Seraphina says, her hands slammed on his desk. "There is **us** , and there is **him**."

"No. There's more to it than that. You don't _get it_ , you're so caught up in Grindelwald's game, that you can't see the more important issues happening in this country."

" **Grindelwald** takes priority."

"He's in a cell now, Sera. It's time to move on to other things. There are _kids_ out there, Modesty was one of them, who have magic and we are not even bothering to find them, or help them."

"Exposing magic to no-majs is not helping anyone."

"Do you hear yourself right now? I can't believe what I'm hearing. I can't **_trust_** you anymore, Sera. I thought you were my friend, I really did. Ever since school, I thought we were close, but then a man steals my face and there's not one thing that tips you off that it might not be me. But **now**?"

"That is not what we're discussing-"

"You didn't talk to him. You didn't think anything was amiss."

"He had your memories-"

"A few days isn't enough to go over a _lifetime_ of memories, Sera!" And it's his turn to slam on the desk. "All those things that you wouldn't stop nitpicking, everything about me you didn't like. Those things I say, those opinions I have, everything you criticized about me for _years_. It just all disappears one day and you don't think **anything** of it. If anything, it was probably such a **_relief_** for you that you ignore that feeling in the back of your head that says ' _this isn't **right** , this isn't **normal**_ **'**. You _let_ him keep my face. You _let_ him take advantage of my friend. You **killed** my friend."

"I didn't have a choice." she says. "Credence Barebone was a danger. I didn't have a _choice_."

"But you did. You **know** you did. It was there, today. Modesty knows things. She can tell. You feel guilt because you know you did something wrong. And you can't even bring yourself to admit it."

"I am sorry, Percival, that you think I di-"

"That I think? That I _think_? Sera, you are just so far up your own ass... Consider me on break. I have vacation days, and I'm taking them. I'll see you in a week."

 

Percival stands and leaves the room, not bothering to close the door behind himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take the time to write a comment! Kudos are also amazing, thank you so much for reading!


	7. It's Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I know OC's can be iffy, but I promise they are temporary. Graves goes to visit his family while he has the time. And he finally talks about what happened. For the most part.

"We won't start on anything difficult. We'll go at your pace, alright?" Newt asked kindly, sitting across from the desk.

They were back in Dumbledore's classroom, Credence and Newt sitting at a small desk with both their wands laid on it's surface. Newt had a book of basic charms opened on the table, turned to the very first page.

"Thank you." Credence said, feeling excited and nervous at the same time.

He'd been waiting so long for this. Dreamed of learning magic for what felt like years. He'd imagined it would have been Mr. Graves instructing him, his face serious except for when Credence would do right, ready to praise him. Credence wanted it to be Mr. Graves, but Credence tried not to fault Newt for that. Newt just wanted to teach him the basics. He'd even told Credence that it would be impossible for him to teach him all the spells and charms and potion making he had learned in school. Credence planned to learn on his own, however, even without a proper teacher, he was determined to learn all he could.

"We'll start with the most basic of spells." Newt told him, picking up his wand. "No effort needed, very little magic used, but very useful."

Credence picked up his wand as well, eager to learn.

Newt smiled and said very clearly, " _Lumos_."

Credence couldn't help his eyes going wide as the tip of Newt's wand lit up like a white hot flame. The room was already filled with light, so it didn't make much of a difference, but it was bright enough to be seen.

"Would you like to give it a try? Here," Newt turned the book so it was facing Credence and he pointed at the short word. "For reference. Knowing what you're saying can be important. Go ahead, no wand waving needed."

Credence gave a weak smile and tried to ignore the twist in his gut.

" _Lumos_."

Credence's wand lit up just like Newt's did, if not a bit brighter. His blood pumped and he couldn't help the wide smile on his face. He looked at Newt and Newt smiled right back.

"Perfect!" he said. "Just perfect. Alright, now it'll stay like that until you say the counterspell."

"Counterspell?" Credence asked.

"That's right, it's what will turn the light out when you're done. It's just as simple. All you have to say is _'Nox'_."

Newt's wand light went out. Credence nodded and repeated the word. His light went out as well, and he tried to suppress the laugh that was threatening to come out. He was doing it! He could do magic! Magic that wouldn't hurt anyone for once. He felt lighter than air in that moment.

"Alright, let's move on to a fun one, alright? A levitation spell. Pronunciation is very important, and the wand movement is very simple." Newt told him. He moved the book out of the way and placed a single feather in front of Credence.

"A feather?"

"It's the easiest thing to lift with how light it is. The heavier the object, the more difficult it is to lift. Easier than physically lifting it, mind you, but even magic has it's limits. Are you ready?"

Credence nodded. Newt smiled.

"All the wand movement is is a swish and a flick." Newt demonstrated and Credence copied his movements. "Wonderful. And the spell is 'Wingardium Leviosa'. Be sure to make that 'gar' nice and long. It should match up with your wand work perfectly. Here, _Wingardium Leviosa_."

The feather started to float gently in the air, moving slowly as Newt directed it with his wand. Newt lowered it back to the desk and move his wand away.

"There we go. Now you try."

Credence cleared his throat, and his hand shook slightly as he swished and flicked his wand. " _Wingardium Leviosa_."

The feather lifted gently off the desk. Credence smiled broadly, feeling absolutely giddy at the sight of it.

"See? No need to be so nervous, you're an absolute natural."

"Does it work on other things?" Credence asked.

"Oh yes. Many objects, some animals, even people if they annoy you enough." Newt told him.

"What about brooms?" Credence asked.

"Well, our brooms are built to fly anyway. No need to charm them ourselves. It's best not to try and mess with the charms on things already, the results could be disastorous. I once try to dous a magical fire and it got quite annoyed with me. Singed my eyebrows off."

"It got annoyed?" Credence asked, unaware that fire, magical or not, could get annoyed at anything.

"Oh yes. I've ticked off many items in my life. Sometimes they're just tempermental, but for the most part I was just making trouble. My case's latch has a problem, because I was messing around with it. Now it likes to annoy me."

"Do brooms have personalites too?" Credence asked, the feather was now at the ceiling, spinning slightly as it bumped against a beam.

"Very insterested in brooms today, aren't you?" Newt asked. "They can, yes. If they don't like their rider they can be a bit stubborn. Do you want to learn to fly? It's part of the curriculum, you know?"

"It is?" Credence asked, lowering his wand.

"Of course. It's a wizard's most popular form of transportation." Newt told him. "Telll you what, we'll learn a few more spells here, and after we can check if the weather is nice enough to fly in."

The feather floated gently down past them and landed softly on the table.

"I would like that." Credence told him.

 

  
The castle grounds were covered in snow when they went outside. It was wholly undisturbed other than their footprints, and the sky was wide and blue above them. Credence was the warmest he had been in snow in all his life, bundled up in an old scarf of Newt's and a heavy coat that had been left for him in his room that morning. He even had a pair of decent boots that kept the snow out with no problem.

"Here should be a good enough spot. Usually we'd go to the Quidditch pitch, but it's a bit too far from the castle for a simple flying lesson."

Newt set his suitcase in the snow, opening it and disappearing inside. Credence peared inside of it, but it was too dark inside to see anything. Newt emerged quickly holding two separate brooms in his hands. He kicked the case shut, the latches closing on their own. He placed both brooms in the snow, and gestured for Credence to stand next to one.

"Now this is just a simple exercise. I doubt you'll use it again, but it's just a good way to express control over one's broom." Newt stood next to the other broom and straightened his back. He hovered his hand over the broom on the ground. "All you have to do is place your hand like so, and say Up."

The broom shot up from the ground and into Newt's hand. Credence jumped with how sudden it was. Newt grinned at him.

"See? Very simple. Now if it doesn't work right away, don't worry. I've had this broom since I was a boy. The one you'll be using is my brother's old one. I wouldn't be surprised if it's still attached to him."

Credence nodded and put his hand out over the broom as Newt had just shown him. His hand was shaking again and he suppressed a scowl at the sight. He looked at the broom on the ground. It looked completely inanimate, and a way of anxiety washed over Credence.

"Up." he said, and the broom shot from the ground into his hand. He was surprised at the force of it, but kept a steady grip.

"Marvelous! Now, we're not going to go off anywhere right yet. All I want you to do is mount the broom and kick off the ground. You'll hover for a bit, but then you'll touch down again. Are you ready?"

Credence nodded. He copied Newt's movements as he mounted the broom and gripped the handle tightly. He could already feel the broom taking some of his weight off his feet.

"Now kick off." Newt commanded, and Credence did.

It was not a feeling of weightlessness like Credence expected. He still felt gravity around him, but his feet left the ground as if he weighed nothing. He didn't rise very far off the ground, but fear still jolted through him as he tried to keep his balance.

"H-how do I get down?" Credence asked Newt, who was hovering close by.

"Just press your weight down with your whole body. It will know what you want."

Credence became dead weight on the broom, but he quickly loses his balance, even as the broom descends he's already on the ground, spread eagle. The broom lands gently on his chest and he grabs the handle without really thinking about it.

"Credence? _Credence_ , are you alright? I should have warned you-" but Newt stopped fretting once he saw that Credence was laughing as he clutched the broom to his chest.

Credence kept laughing for a very long time. Tears streamed into his eyes as his sides started to hurt, and soon the laughter turned into sobs. Newt stayed kneeled in the snow next to him, his hand placed gently on Credence's shoulder.

Credence cried. He didn't know why he was, but he felt hysterical with it. He had never been so happy in his life and he was lying on the ground, crying his eyes out. When they finally died down, Credence stared past Newt and into the sky. It looked so much bluer than he had ever seen it before.

"This has been the greatest week of my life." Credence said, and his heart ached with how true it was.

He'd had good days before. He had been happy with Mr. Graves during dinner together, when he would show Credence a small bit of magic, or tell him something about his life that he promised Credence no one else knew. Those were good days, good nights, good hours. But the happiness they gave him never stayed. Not when he had to go back to the church. Not when his hands were bruised and raw. When his arms would start bleeding if he scratched at the scabs left there by his Ma. Not when he had to keep himself on his toes around Chastity, who never hesitated in telling on him when he had a 'lapse in judgement'. Not when he was always trying to keep Modesty from asking too many questions and putting herself in the path of their Ma's wrath.

"It's alright, Credence." Newt told him. "Do you want to try again tomorrow?"

Credence nodded his head. "If that's alright with you?"

"Of course it is." Newt tells him, and helps him to his feet.

Credence hands the broom back to Newt, who takes it, but continues to look at Credence.

"Are you alright?"

Credence can only shrug. "I don't know. I think..." He hesitates. "I think I might need to go home before I can be okay again."

"Back to New York, you mean?"

"Yes. I need to find my sister. Maybe... Maybe talk to Miss Goldstein... And Mr. Graves."

"Do you think you're ready to?" Newt asked quietly.

"No, but... I don't think I ever really will be. It's just something I have to do."

Newt nodded. "I'll write to Tina tonight."

 

~~~~~~~

  
Modesty fell asleep on the train almost instantly. It wasn't a very long trip upstate, but still the movement of the train lulled her and soon she was snoozing against the window. Percival watched over her, mostly gazing out the glass barrier, watching as the snow got heavier the further away from Long Island they went. The buildings disappeared, and trees replaced them. Hills and mountains overtook the landscape and Percival's mind turned to his family.

He hadn't seen his family in a very long time... Not since his mother retired to Cassadaga Lake, which is where he was headed now. He'd always meant to visit, but he never found the time... His sister's sons were probably teenagers at this point, and his mother would look older than he had ever seen her before...

He'd written to his sister as soon as he left the Woolworth building the day before and told her about Modesty, and about how he was finally coming to a family Christmas.

His sister had sent a Howler back, waking up the entire apartment, no matter how hard he'd tried to muffle it.

But at the end of it, she had agreed to meet them at the station.

It wasn't that he didn't love his family, and it certainly wasn't that he didn't miss them, it was just that... Well, Percival was the head of Magical Law Enforcement. That didn't allow for a lot of time off. There was always a case to work on, a criminal to find, or danger to be stopped. In New York, those things were abundant. His mother understood that, seeing as she had been an Auror before him.

He looked forward to seeing them again, and introducing them to Modesty. Percival couldn't help but feel that having Modesty in a wizarding only community might be good for her as well. Lilydale was one of the few wizarding towns established in New York, and it was small enough that any muggles who came across it were nothing to worry about. The witches and wizards there liked to entertain them with talks of seances and psychic abilities, though very few of them possessed the gift. It was all in good fun, and they never did anything technically illegal, so Percival had never a need to visit as a law official.

He ends up nodding off on the train as well, and for once he doesn't have nightmares of being in the dark, trapped and afraid. Instead he has a memory of him and Credence. They're sitting in the back of a restaurant, not a speakeasy, but still dark and shady. Credence is looking at Percival's neck, and then looking away. He does this a few times before Percival decides to say something about it.

"Is there something wrong?" Percival asks him quietly.

Credence shakes his head. "No, Mr. Graves. I was just... The scorpions. I was just wondering about them."

Percival reaches up and touches them, pinned to his collar. A gift from his sister when he had passed his Auror's exam.

"Oh, yes... I'm very fond of them." Percival tells Credence. "They're my patronus."

Credence only looks confused and Percival mentally berates himself.

"A patronus is a charm of sorts. It's a happy memory in a physical form, when they're strong enough they take the form of an animal. Mine looks like a scorpion."

"Oh, I think... I see." Credence tells him, but Percival can see that he doesn't.

"It's okay, Credence. You'll cast one yourself someday, I'm sure of it. I'll teach you."

"I'm not so sure about that, Mr. Graves, but thank you." Credence tells him, giving a small, shaky smile. He fiddles with the silverware.

"What's wrong, Credence?" Percival asks him, reaching out to touch his hand. "Did I say something to upset you?"

"No, of course not." Credence assures him. "It's just... I don't think I would be able to cast such a spell, even if you could teach me."

"Why do you think that?" Percival asks, but he already knows the answer.

"I don't have many happy memories." Credence sighs, looking ashamed of himself. "Certainly nothing strong enough to form anything."

Percival turns his hand over, palm up, and Credence hesitantly placed his hand on top. Percival closes his fingers over Credence's much thinner ones.

"I was very small when I was a boy," he starts. "I was often left behind by my peers and I was ridiculed for my size. I was very conscious of myself and was very unhappy a lot of the time. I tried lots of irresponsible things to try and make myself taller. One day my father caught me trying to drink a bone growing potion from the medicine cabinet, so he sat me down and pulled out a book. He opened it up, showed me a picture of a scorpion and he read to me about them. 'The smaller they are,' he told me 'the more deadly their sting'. I held onto that phrase. It helped me grow fonder of myself and my stature. Even as I grew into myself, I still liked scorpions. Even if my sting is less deadly than it was, I still think about how I needed it at the time."

Credence's eyes are filled with... something. Fondness, perhaps? Hope?

"What I mean to say, Credence... Is that happiness doesn't just happen. Even if you don't have many happy memories now, I can guarantee you that we will make happy memories."

Credence reaches out with this other hand, and Percival feels his eyes close as Credence lightly touches his face. Gently, just under his eye... This is not part of the memory, Percival knows this, but Percival wishes it was.

When he opens his eyes, he sees Modesty reaching up to his face.

"You were crying." she tells him.

Percival straightens himself and wipes at his face. Indeed there are tears there. He can't bring himself to feel embarrassed, but he puts on a show for Modesty.

"Terribly sorry, Modesty. I hope you don't think less of me." he tells her, and she smiles at him.

"No, I don't." She bites her bottom lip. "But I'm sorry your dream was sad."

Percival shakes his head. "It wasn't. It was a nice dream." He hesitates with the next sentence. "... It was about Credence."

Modesty's smile melts into a frown. "Was he happy in it?" she asks him.

Percival nods. "I think so."

"That's alright then." she tells him. She pats his arm reassuringly, and Percival can only raise an eyebrow at that.

He gazes out the window, and places his hand over her much smaller one. "We should be there very soon." he tells her.

  
When they arrive, Percival has Modesty hold his hand. The crowd is not very thick, but he would still not like to risk losing her. As they walk down the station pathway, Percival tries to find familliar faces, anyone he might know. He only recognises one face and he heads towards her as swiftly as Modesty is able to follow.

She's waiting for him, her coat thick and a pair of mittens knitted by her own hand. He can tell because they look awful.

"Pearl." he says.

"Percival." she answers.

She doesn't smile at him, and he doesn't smile at her.

But then her arms are opened and he can't help but go to her. Her coat is just as soft as it looks and he can tell that she is using all her anger and frustration to squeeze him through the hug.

"Hi, Pearlie." he gasps out.

"Hi, Percy." she answers, smugly.

"How are the boys?"

"Just awful. They terrorize me night and day, and Gregory can't get any sort of control over them."

When she finally lets go, she kneels down to Modesty, a big smile on her face.

"And you must be Modesty." she says. "I'm your new Aunt Pearl."

Modesty doesn't say anything, just nods and stares at Pearl as she reaches back to grab Percival's hand.

"She's an absolute _darling_ , Percival. And I can feel her shuffling around my emotions. She'll make quite the witch someday."

"Don't I know it." he tells her, squeezing Modesty's hand.

He quickly picks up his dropped suitcase as Pearl stands up again. They follow her to the carriage she has waiting for them. The driver takes his suitcase and puts it in the back as Percival lifts Modesty into the carriage.

"You remember Anthony, don't you, Percival?" Pearl asks, refusing his hand.

The driver tips his hat at Percival before he climbs into the front of the carriage.

"I honestly don't." Percival tells her, nodding back to Anthony.

"Of course you don't." Pearl sighs. "Last time you were here he was still an apprentice."

Once Percival is in the carriage, they start steadily making their way to Lilydale village.

"Mom's excited to see you, of course." Pearl tells him.

"That's shocking." Percival mutters under his breath.

"No need for that." Pearl tells him. "She is. Especially after what happened. The papers made no mention of your status and she was terrified that you'd finally met your demise. She wants you to retire, of course."

"I was going to." Percival sighs. "A friend changed my mind."

"Well, at least instead you adopted young Modesty here." Pearl said, smiling at the little girl in question.

"I knew her brother." Percival tells her. And he turns his head away, ending the conversation.

He can feel his sister's gaze on him, as he pointedly ignores her for the rest of the ride. Even as they exit the carriage, he turns away in favor of speaking to Modesty about the village.

"You'll be hard pressed to find and no-maj's here." he tells her. "Especially in the winter. I can almost garuntee everyone you meet will be a witch or wizard."

"Is your mom a witch?" Modesty asks.

"She is, and my dad was one too."

Modesty hums as she looks out the carriage window, which had a nice view of the lake and some other children skating on it.

When they arrived at his mother's home, Percival trailed behind his sister. She takes the lead easily, holding Modesty's hand, her head held high. Percival admires her, and even if she is the younger sibling, he can't help but look up to her in that moment.

"Mom, come meet your newest grandchild!" Pearl hollers out, and the moment is gone.

The front door swings open as soon as they reach is and Percival's mother is there. Her hair is long and gray, not bothered to be kept in any form of proper, the complete opposite of both his and his sister's. She is stick thin, but looks no less powerful for it, and her black dress is hidden beneath an oversized green sweater.

"Let me see her!" Irene Graves cries out, her arms outstretched towards Modesty.

Modesty looks back at Percival and her nods to her. Modesty is quick to turn back and run towards Percival's mother with a smile on her face. This absolutely thrills Irene.

"Oh, _Percy,_ she's absolutely perfect!" Irene tells him, not tearing her eyes away from Modesty's face.

"She certainly is." Percival tells her, brushing past his sister in order to properly greet his mother.

Irene takes a moment to stop gushing over Modesty to kiss her son on the cheek. "How's Sera?"

"We're fighting right now, so I couldn't tell you."

Irene's mouth forms a grim line. "Is she mad at you, or are you mad at her?"

"I'm mad at her, which makes her mad at me by default."

Irene shakes her head and sighs. "That woman has let her job go to her head. I mean, you have too, but at least you've handled it well. Do you need me to write her a letter?"

"No, thank you." Percival tells her hastily, really not needing his mother to fight his battles for him as if he were a child.

"We'll talk about it later, alright? Now come inside, all of you. I have hot chocolate and giggle water all ready to help warm you up."

Irene takes Modesty's hand and leads them into the house.

He hear Modesty ask his mother, "Can I see your wand?"

Percival can't help but smile at that. Pearl makes sure to elbow Percival as she passes him, throwing a smirk over her shoulder. He can only shake his head at her and follow.

It was later, after food had been eaten and his sister drained their mother of almost all of her liquor that they had a moment alone. Modesty had fallen asleep leaning on him, and his sister had passed out drinking and her husband had pick her up and carry her to bed. Irene took the opportunity to have a seat across from Percival. She sipped at the wine in her hand, and sighed as she looked at his face.

"What?" he asked, feeling her eyes boring into him.

"You have a new scar." she told him, pointing at the place on his cheekbone.

"I have a lot of new scars." he informed her.

"It has been awhile, hasn't it." she asks, leaning back in her chair.

"It has." he tells her, smoothing back Modesty's hair from her forehead.

"I think we should have a talk." Irene says softly.

"I suppose we should." he agrees, because he knows there's not getting around it.

"Tell me why you and Seraphina are fighting."

"She did something that I don't agree with. It affected me personally, and as a result, I've been trying to make no-maj's and witches and wizards more... Available to each other."

"Does this have to do with the obscurus that attacked New York?" Irene asks very seriously.

"It does." Percival tells her.

"Does it have to do with Modesty?"

"It does, but not in the way you're thinking."

Irene raising an eyebrow and crosses her arms. "What am I thinking, Percy?"

"You're thinking that Modesty was the Obscurial. And that I adopted her, because I think I can help her."

"And is that true?"

"No. Modesty wasn't the Obscurial. Someone else was."

Irene leaned back in her chair and took a long sip of her wine. She purses her lips as she takes a moment to think. Then she stands up, and sits back down next to Percival.

"Alright," she says with finality. "Tell me everything. From the beginning."

Percival starts with Tina.

He starts with her assignment to scout the Second Salemers and determine their level of threat. He talks about the attack on Mary Lou Barebone, and how she had been treating her children. He talks about the promise he made to watch over the eldest child, a young man named Credence. He talks about the beatings he'd witnessed, and how he would wait for Credence in the aftermath to heal him. He talks about the promises he made to Credence, and about how he just wanted to be _sure_ , that he would take Credence out of the church as soon as he got back, no matter if he was magical or not. He talks about the ambush on him as soon as he reached Europe. He talks about how he doesn't remember most of it.

He **doesn't** talk about how much like torture it felt to be trapped in the dark, completely alone and unaware.

But he talks about being found.

He talks about the hospital.

He talks about Seraphina.

He talkes about losing control of his magic.

He talks about finding Modesty.

He talks about how much he wanted things to be how they were, before Credence was dead. He talks about what he would do different, and what he would have wanted to say if he'd just had the chance to say it.

He stops talking after that, and he is clutching at Modesty's loose sleeve, his head buried in his mother's shoulder. She holds him like she had when he was young and upset about something frivolous. She pets his hair and cradles his neck, and she's whispering to him that it will be alright, that this pain won't last forever. She thanks him.

"For what?" he asks, lifting his head.

"For trusting me with this." she tells him, her hands placed gently on the sides of his face. "This has been so hard for you. You've been carrying this around and trying to handle it on your own like you do with everything, but now you've told me. We can carry it together."

" _Ma_..." he says, his eyes softening.

"Percy, you do what you have to. If you want this young man to be remembered, I will happily put a headstone next to your father's. If you want to retire, I will help you buy a cottage near mine. If you want to go back to work, and put the whole system on it's head, I will stand by you no matter what."

Percival nods the best he can. "Thank you, Ma." he says, and he's trying to keep his voice from breaking.

She hugs him close for what feels like an age. Then she let's go, tells him to go to bed, and that breakfast will be ready in the morning.

Percival picks up Modesty with no trouble, her head dropping on his shoulder, and he carries her upstairs to the spare room prepared for the two of them. He tucks her in the best he can, and decides that he won't wake her up just for the sake of sleep clothes.

He makes a smililar decision for himself and drops into bed without bothering to change.

He is more exhausted than he can ever remember being.

As he sleeps, he is unaware that Tina is reading a letter sent by Newt Scamander, biting her thumb nail with confusion, happiness, and a whole new kind of fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are amazing, but you know what even better??? COMMENTS! I love feedback, please let me know how I'm doing with this.


	8. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all wanted it. Now here it is.

They don't leave until after Christmas.

Credence pleasantly shocked to discover that Christmas is widely celebrated in the wizarding community. He avoids asking too many questions about this small blessing, because he doesn't know if he's ready to find out that Jesus was a witch, which may explain why he hung out with them so much... Newt is understanding about this and simply gives Credence a gift rather than trying to explain.

Credence takes it, only to look confused.

"I don't understand." he says.

"It's for you, Credence." Newt says, smiling. "A Christmas gift."

Credence's eyes go wide and he looks down to stare at it. He can not even imagine what would possess Newt to do such a thing, especially when he knows Credence cannot return the kindness.

"You can open it, you know?" Newt tells him.

"I-I can't possibly." Credence tells him. "This is too much-"

"You don't even know what it is yet." Newt says.

"Still," Credence insists. "You've already done so much for me, this is just... I can't."

"I'm afraid that I'm not going to take it back, Credence. I've already handed it over." Newt then pops a piece of chocolate orange into his mouth.

Credence looks pained at the very idea of having received a gift, but his hands move to the edges of the wrapping paper and he tears it open nonetheless.

It's a book. Not too large or heavy, but not small either. It's it entirely black except for the silver writing on the cover that seems to glow.

" _Fending Off Darkness: The History and Uses of the Patronus Charm_ by Flavius Delby." Credence read aloud.

"I interviewed Flavius for my book a while back to get his story on how he fought off a lethifold. He was the first to do it, and it was his patronus charm that he did it with. I wrote to him a few days ago and asked him for a copy of his book, and he was very kind to send one. I thought you might like to read it."

Credence flipped through the black pages of the book, stopping to watch some of the silver illustrations move about their pages. He didn't know what to say. There was no way to express how much such a gift meant to him.

"I- I just..." Credence quickly met Newt's eyes. "Thank you, I've been wanting... To learn more about them."

Newt beamed. "I'm glad to hear it, Credence. Patronuses are very powerful charms, and if anyone could perform a full corporeal one, I believe it would be you."

Credence swallowed around the lump in his throat and managed to smile back at Newt.

It was the _only_ and _greatest_ Christmas gift he had ever received.

 

  
They took the school train back to London after Christmas Day. Dumbledore was kind enough to see them off. They got on as many children and young adults were getting off, clearly they were students that had been gone for the holiday which would explain why Credence had seen so few of them.

There was a strange comfort in seeing so many young innocents performing spells as they walked and laughed with each other. There was no evil in them that Credence could see. He was beginning to see much less of it in the world as well, and even in himself. He could still feel that darkness roiling around inside of him, but it was mostly subdued, and felt more under control with the more magic he practiced. Even the simple spells that Newt was teaching him on their ride through Scotland helped.

"Right, see? If we rip this right down the middle," Newt ripped the piece of paper very quickly. "We can fix it quite easily with a mending charm; reparo. Just like with Lumos, it requires no wand waving. Would you like to try it?"

"Of course." Credence told him, pointing his wand at the ripped paper. " _Reparo!_ "

The paper very quickly knitted itself back together and Newt handed it to him.

"It's possibly one of the most useful spells you can learn. It was one my mother taught me early on in life seeing as I was always breaking things around me." Newt told him.

"Does it only work on objects?" Credence asked, tearing the paper up again.

"It does. When it comes to people, we're not so easy to fix. That's what we have healers for. It can take more than a quick spell to fix what we do to ourselves. Some processes are slow, some require complex potions, and some things simply can't be repaired."

"Like what?" Credence asks. " _Reparo!_ " The tiny pieces of paper whirl around his hand as they reassemble themselves.

"Well, matters of the mind for one. There are some things that there just isn't any healing for. Trauma for instance. My brother for example-" Newt cut himself off. "Well, then again, that's not my business to tell... But there are many wizards who came back from the war damaged in many ways we can't fix."

"The Great War?" Credence asks. "Wizards fought in the World War?"

"We did. We still live in our countries. We have our own foreign relations to worry about, and tensions are reflected on both sides, wizarding and muggle. It certainly made things complicated for me while I was researching my book. I focused mainly on dragons during those years."

"What was that like?"

Newt smiled at Credence. "It was amazing. Dragons are very misunderstood creatures, Credence. They're dangerous of course, but only when one doesn't know how to properly handle them."

Credence stares wide eyed out the train window. "Dragons..." he murmurs, trying to look beyond the horizon line and into a world he can't yet fully comprehend.

 

  
When they arrive in London, Newt is quick to apparate them away into a dark corner of the station. He sets his case down flat on the ground and opens it.

"I'm afraid I'll need you to get inside for the time being. I have to stop by the Ministry and get the approval to publish my book. I'm afraid that they won't take well to having you walk in with me, given what's happened over in New York."

Credence looked down into the case then looked back up at Newt. "What if the creatures come after me?"

Newt smiles and pats Credence on the shoulder. "They won't. They already met you. They know you won't harm them. Now, in you get."

Credence clutches his book to his chest and descends the stairs. Newt takes a moment to see that Credence is situated before closes the lid and clicking the bindings in place. Credence breathes out a shaky sigh and walks towards the door that he knows leads outside to the larger area.

This will be his first time in the case without Newt since he was in the jar, and needless to say he was rather nervous...

But when Newt opens the case to fetch Credence again he finds him reading his new book at the base of the bowtruckle tree, completely unharmed. An occamy has wrapped itself around his wrist and the niffler has taken to trying to steal the buckles off of his shoes. Credence looks up smiling as Newt greets him, and several of the bowtruckle make themselves known from where they were hiding in the folds and pockets of Credence's clothes.

"They're quite taken with you." Newt says, beaming at the sight. "I'm grateful that you get along with them, I would hate it if a friend of mine couldn't bear to be around them."

Credence can only duck his head and shrug a shoulder. He liked the creatures' company. They were simple beings who didn't have an ill motives when it came to their interactions. Which was more than anyone could say for people.

"How did your meeting go?" Credence asked, standing up and letting all the bowtruckles climb from his arm back to their tree.

"Surprisingly well. Magical creatures can be such a difficult subject with some people, especially when those people work in government. But they looked at my book, and they gave their approval nonetheless. All I have to do now is find a suitable publishing company."

"Do you plan on finding one in New York?" Credence wondered.

"I hadn't thought about it." Newt hums. "But I suppose it can't be a bad idea. America does publish some fairly popular books."

Credence holds out his arm to allow the occamy to slide off his arm and into Newt's hands. Credence picks up the niffler on the ground and carries him back to his hole that is filled with what Credence now knows is Newt's own earnings.

"Are you excited at all to be going home?" Newt asks.

Credence can only shrug. "Anxious maybe. I'm not sure if New York _is_ my home anymore, to be honest. But I don't have anywhere else to call home anyway."

"Maybe that will change." Newt suggests. "Home is wherever you want it to be."

Credence smiles timidly.

_Maybe_ , he thought. Just _maybe_  New York could feel like home again if he tried hard enough. If he found somewhere to work and somewhere to live. Maybe somewhere with Modesty, perhaps near a library.

"Anyway," Newt starts. "I was able to pick up our tickets. We'll be leaving bright and early tomorrow morning. It's a five day trip, nothing too extreme. And with you with me, I'll be able to check on the animals a bit more often than I was last time. This'll be good, Credence, I'm sure of it."

"Will we be staying with Tina?" Credence asked. "I would like to thank her as soon as I'm able."

"We shall indeed. She wrote to me this morning insisting on it. She's very glad to hear you're alive, as is her sister. We'll be keeping it a secret from MACUSA for now. Because while Tina and Queenie may know that you're alive, no one else does."

Credence nodded along, but as soon as he realized what Newt had said his blood ran cold.

"No one?" Credence asked. " _No one_ else knows I'm alive?"

Newt shook his head. "I'm afraid not. It's information that we're keeping on a need to know basis for now. You're welcome to tell anyone you'd like, of course. But we should keep it to a very small group of people."

"Mr. Graves doesn't know, does he?" Credence asked very seriously.

"Percival Graves? No, I don't believe he does. I don't imagine Tina's had time to tell him. From what I heard from Tina he's on holiday with his daughter right now."

"Oh." Credence murmured faintly, his eyes widening.

Daughter?

Mr. Graves has a **daughter**?

Since when did he... Why didn't he tell _Credence?_

But what did Credence really expect? He wasn't an important part of Mr. Grave's life. If anything Credence was a nuisance that got him kidnapped by one of the most dangerous men on the planet. Credence was a project. A poor, beaten down boy who needed to be coddled, and since Tina couldn't do it, Mr. Graves had to pick up where she left off.

He probably went home after he heard Credence died. To his daughter, and probably a wife. She was probably blonde, pretty and strong. She probably went to school with him, maybe they fell in love there. Mr. Graves never said anything about her, because Credence was always too busy thinking about himself. Pushing himself to the forefront of every conversation...

What **did** Credence expect?

"Credence?"

Credence blinked rapidly, finding that his eyes were wet. How stupid of him. How selfish...

"Credence," Newt repeated. "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

"Right," Credence choked out. "Of course. I'm sorry, I was just- I got got caught up in my thoughts for a second."

Modesty, Credence decided, was his main focus. He would have to find Modesty. Forget about Mr. Graves, he needed to find his sister. He knows that he left her alone and afraid. He needed to tell her that he wouldn't hurt her, that he would never hurt her. Not like he did to his Ma or to Chastity.

"Credence, we'll take it one thing at a time. Don't worry, alright?"

"Sorry, I'm not worried. Everything will be fine." Credence told him, parroting Newt's words.

Newt nodded and patted him quickly on the shoulder, but he did not look convinced at all that Credence was alright.

Five days until New York. Just _five_ more days.

 

~~~~~

 

They spent five more days with Percival's family after Christmas passed. He would be home just in time for New Year's, which he planned on sleeping through after a glass of firewhiskey.

Modesty had been overjoyed to celebrate Christmas with her new family, a mountain of presents reserved just for her. Lots of new dresses and toys from Percival's mother and a brand new broom from Pearl. Percival confiscated it nearly immediately.

"She's too young for a real broom." he insisted,

"Oh, please." Pearl said, rolling her eyes so hard, Percival wished they'd disappear into her skull. "I was flying on a broom when I was six."

"Yes, when Ma and Dad weren't looking and it was my broom."

"Calm down, Percy." Irene said, looking lovingly at the beautiful moonstone bracelet Pearl had just gifted her. "Modesty will grow into it. And if I recall, you weren't much bigger than her when we got you that broom."

"I was 13, thank you very much, perfectly well aged to be flying."

"Tim? Terry? How old were you when we let you first fly?" Pearl asked her sons.

"Seven." the boys chorused as they were rumaging through their stockings.

"See? And now they're playing for their house teams at school. Eight is a perfectly acceptable age."

Percival was about to protest even more, but then Modesty had tugged on his sleeve. He looked down and saw her eyes full of excitement and hope as they darted from his face to the broom in his hand.

Needless to say, he had lost that argument.

For the rest of their time, Modesty played with her cousins, who had taken to her like a phoenix to fire. They took turns racing around with her on their shoulders as they played in the snow, and they made sure that she was always on the winning team for their snowball fights. Percival couldn't find any regrets in coming to his mother's for Christmas as he watched his whole family fall in love with Modesty as if she truly were their own flesh and blood.

The goodbyes at the train station were tearful, but warm. Everyone insisted on hugs, even his brother-in-law who he knew wasn't an overly affectionate man, but there was something about a new member of the family that brought out the warmth in some people. Gregory being one of them, apparently.

"Come back for Easter, won't you?" Irene asks as she kisses her son goodbye.

"Of course, Ma. I'll be taking a lot more time off now, I think." he tells her, holding onto her hands tightly.

Her eyes water as she smiles at him. "Write to me, too? Any time you want to. I'm certainly not a busy woman these days."

"I will. Modesty will, too. I'll get her an owl when we move into a new home."

The train whistles and there's no more time for goodbyes. He helps Modesty up into the car and grabs their bags before heaving himself up as well. Modesty waves out the window as is starts to move away, and Percival puts their things in the space provided.

"Did you have a good Christmas, then?" he asks her as he sits down next to her.

She hugs his arm tightly.

"The _best_." she says, and Percival let's himself feel warmed by the words.

As long as she's happy, he thinks, I'll be fine.

 

  
Tina is standing nervously at the gate when their train pulls through. Her hair's a mess and she's biting her nails as if she were starving and it was the only way she could eat. He smiles at her in a bemused way as he and Modesty walk towards her.

"What's wrong? You didn't have to come meet us, I told you we'd be fine coming back on our own." he tells her as soon as they're within ear shot.

"Things have changed." Tina tells him, and her facial movements are a worried mess of giddiness and sickness. "They arrived _today_ , and I couldn't just write about it in a letter, it wouldn't be fair to you- to either of you."

"Slow down, Tina." Percival tells her, feeling worried now. He leans her over to a more secluded area and Modesty follows closely behind him. "What are you talking about? Who arrived today?"

"Oh god, Newt did. They're- the man I told you about, the one with the creatures, the one who helped stop Grindelwald- They're _here_ , Percival. I don't know if I can tell you. They're waiting- they're with Queenie at the bakery and I don't know- I just have to show you. You won't believe me."

"Show me? Show me what?" Percival asks slowly and calmly.

"I don't know what you'll do, Percival, I just don't. You were getting better- if this sets you back- or maybe it will just fix everything, I don't **_know_** -"

"Tina, just tell me what's wrong."

Tina starts crying and Percival puts a hand on her back out of instinct. He tries to comfort her, but she just shrugs him off.

"Nothing! Nothing is wrong, it's the most _wonderful_ thing and I can't- I _can't!_ I don't know how to say it, you just- you have to follow me, alright? You **have** to. The bakery is closed right now and they're waiting."

Tina turns on her heel and starts walking swiftly out of the station. Percival can only pick up the suitcases and chase after her, looking back at Modesty to insure that she isn't left behind. She keeps pace with him and there's a look or fierce determination on her face as she follows.

They're in the street just as Tina hails a cab. She doesn't give Percival time to put the suitcases in the trunk as they fit into the cab. She gives the driver the address of the bakery that Percival knows Queenie favors and doesn't say anything else during the ride. Modesty keeps the determined look on her face, while Percival just looks confused.

When they pull up, the street is empty. The store front of the sweet shop is dark and Tina steps forward to knock on the glass door. They wait only for a moment before a man opens the door for them.

"Tina, they're waiting-" he starts.

"I **know**." is all Tina says before moving past him and through the door. "Make sure these two wait here, I just need to have a word with _them_ first."

She headed to the back of the shop before anyone can say anything else.

The man looks back at Percival and a look passes across his face that Percival knows is recognition. The man sticks his hand out anyway.

"Jacob Kowalski. I'm a no-maj, or uh, a muggle? Depending on who you ask, I guess."

Percival takes his hand, narrowing his eyes at the no-maj. "And you- You know Tina?"

"Yeah, well, I'm kinda sweet on her sister." Jacob tells him. "But uh, maybe I shouldn't be telling you that?"

"Oh.  _Oh_." Percival says with a realization. "No, Queenie has talked about you of course. Sorry, I just got off a train. And don't worry about me, I'm head of Magical Law Enforcement. Nothing will happen to you while I'm in charge."

"Golly, that is a relief Mr. Graves. Oh, uh, sorry. I sort of already met you. In passing. You was that guy at the time though, I don't really know how it works."

Percival nods. "Yes. _Him_. Well, I'm glad no harm came to you."

"Aw, thanks. Say, uh, by the way, I'm sorry I broke down your office door. It was kind of a dire situation."

Percival is at a loss for words at that. They stand in a awkward silence for a moment, just nodding at each other before Tina calls out from the back.

"Okay, it's fine now, just- Just send them in the front."

Jacob moves out of the way to let Percival and Modesty through. He is also quick to help with one of the bags which Percival nods to him in thanks for. They stand in the quaint shop, Modesty looking around at the empty display cases where Percival is sure pastries of all kinds usually sit. Tina steps out from the back room and smiles nervously, a red haired man shuffles up behind her awkwardly.

"Percival, this is Newt. Newt Scamander. He's British." Tina explains.

Percival nods to New Scamander in greeting. Newt's lips twitch into a smile as he gives a quick "Hullo."

"Now, Newt's going to explain. But only _after_. Okay?"

Percival nods slowly. "Alright then."

Tina nods determinedly and she moves to the side. "Alright, then." she says quietly to herself and then louder, "You can come out now."

Newt's steps away as well, and from the darkness of the back room steps a young man. A very slim and _familiar_ young man. One that Percival knows and misses dearly. The man who walks forward and meets his eye without fear, and he's-

" ** _Credence!_** " Modesty practically screams and rushes forward. Percival tries to grab her, but he's too caught off guard and she's too fast.

She runs straight to Credence and practically knocks him over, his long arms wrap around her so tightly. His face is buried in her sweater and he repeating Modesty's name over in shock.

"Credence, Credence, you were- He told me you were dead! We thought you were killed!" Modesty is saying over Credence's own mantra.

Percival can **not** move.

He is frozen there, his arm still outstretch towards Modesty. His mouth is left gaping and there is a lump in his throat the size of a hippogriff.

He can't even think as he watches Modesty cling to this young man who he thought was gone from his life. Rather he **is** gone. Because there's no possible way he's alive.

And then slowly Percival's right arm lowers. His grip on the suitcase in his left hand goes slack and the suitcase drops to the ground with a thud.

The moment it touches the ground, every single piece of glass around him shatters.

For a single moment he's glad that Modesty's face is covered by Credence's neck and none of the glass can get in her eyes.

There are shouts around him as it happens, but they fall deaf on him as he just continues to stare. Credence's head lifts and Percival can see the panic in his eyes where he thinks, just for a moment, that it must have been him who did it. Percival almost laughs.

And then he turns and leaves through the broken door.

"Percival!" Tina calls after him, broken glass crunching under her feet as she exits after him, but he doesn't stop.

He keeps walking, and every single store front he passes shatters before him. Every lamp explodes, but he just keeps going.

He can't think about it. He **can't**.

He can't think about Credence.

He's **dead**. Percival knows this. He _knows_ this and yet there he was.

In a pastry shop.

There's a loud crack and the redhead, Newt, apparates before him. Percival is forced to stop, his eyes trained on the young man's wand.

"Mr. Graves," he starts. "I'm going to need you to _calm down_."

Percival can't say anything. There's no words that can possibly be formed in this moment. Percival feels numb.

"Mr. Graves, Credence has come a very long way to see you again. You and your daughter."

Percival shakes his head.

**No.**

Credence was dead.

"Mr. Graves...?"

And this time is was not Newt saying his name.

Percival turns around to see Credence standing behind him.

"Mr. Graves, I'm sorry." he says.

Percival wants to say no. No, don't be sorry. You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. You've done nothing wrong.

But he can't say anything.

"I don't-" Credence pauses, and swallows. "I don't know how to apologize for what I did."

**Did?**

Credence didn't do anything. He was the victim. He was killed on sight by a woman mad with power, a woman Percival thought was his friend-

"I know I only caused you problems, and I- I know it was my fault that you were taken."

Credence steps closer and Percival can't help but step back away from him. He regrets this instantly because Credence suddenly looks so hurt.

"I know- I _know_ I didn't notice. I should have noticed that he wasn't you. I'm sorry I _ever_ thought he was you. I was so foolish and-"

"No." Percival tells him. His voice doesn't sound at all shaken for what he feels. And he is shaken. Shaken to his very core. "No, Credence."

"Mr. Graves, I'm so sorry I-"

Percival walks towards him, his arm already outstretched towards his friend.

His very much **alive** friend.

And suddenly he doesn't understand why he couldn't see it. Credence looks so _solid_. His face looks ever so fuller, and just a touch pinker than his usually chilled pale skin. He looks so healthy and Percival can't help but wrap his hand around the back of Credence's neck and pull him to the place that Credence fits so perfectly in.

He feels _warm_ and so very **real**.

Percival pulls him in tighter, his other arm wrapping around his back. Percival rests his head against him and Credence's arms lift to grab at the back of Percival's coat.

"I'm sorry." Credence mumbles into his neck.

Percival shushes him and strokes the back of his head. He's so real...

Credence pulls back away from him, and his face is wet with tears, his face becoming red in splotches. Percival thinks he is beautiful.

"I'm so sorry."

" _No_." Percival tells him, and now is when his voice breaks. "No, you don't have anything to be sorry for. Nothing at all."

"But I do-"

"You don't. There's **nothing** I blame you for." Percival tells him, and instead of pulling Credence down to his shoulder again, he buries his face in Credence's shoulder. He had forgotten that Credence was taller than him. How could he have forgotten that?

"I can't believe you're alive." Percival whispers.

"Mr. Graves, you're crying." Credence tells him.

Percival squeezes his eyes shut and laughs in some sort of hysterical relief.

"I'm not sad." he says. "You're _alive_ , how could I be sad?"

Percival laughs until he sobs, and Credence doesn't let him go. He just holds on just as tight as Percival does to him and doesn't let Percival fall.

Credence Barebone is very much alive.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha, tell me about how this chapter made you feel. I'm eager to learn. <3


	9. I Missed You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else listen to the UNspoiled Podcast(s)? I'm really into the Harry Potter one. I hope they do Cursed Child and Fantastic Beasts after they're done with Deathly Hallows.

Newt insists that Credence put the street back together himself.

Mr. Graves doesn't even stand two feet away from Credence as he takes out his wand to attempt and repair the broken glass windows and damaged street lanterns. He can feel Mr. Graves eyes on his back and he surpresses a shiver as the glass reassembles itself.

"I'd been hoping to be there when you got your wand..." Mr. Graves says as they move on to the next window.

The back of Credence's neck heats up and he ducks his head.

"Newt took me. He and Professor Dumbledore said I was overdue for one." Credence explains.

"I'm sorry I didn't take you sooner." Mr. Graves tells him. "And I'm sorry for this mess... I haven't been doing to well with control since I... _Well_..."

"Since you got away from Grindelwald?" Credence asks.

Mr. Graves smiles a bit, but he shakes his head. "I didn't ' _get away_.' I was rescued. They found me in my hope chest."

"He kept you in your own house?"

"He needed my hair in order to keep my face. I don't think he had a complete idea as to how long he was going to be me. It's the only reason he kept me alive."

Credence's eyes dart to the dark hair on Mr. Graves' head. It didn't look any different than how Credence remembered it.

"I grew it back." Mr. Graves tells him, as if reading his mind.

"Credence?" Newt interrupted. "This next one, please?"

"Oh! Yes, sorry!" Credence said and rushes to where Newt is waiting for him.

Mr. Graves keeps walking past where Credence and Newt stop, back to the bakery, but he continues to look over his shoulder back at Credence. Credence is confused for a moment as to why he would leave until he sees Modesty run out and straight into Mr. Graves' waiting arms. Credence is momentarily distracted by the display of affection before it finally clicks together.

He had been so shocked when he saw Modesty and so concerned by Mr. Graves' loss of control that he hadn't even bothered to wonder why they had entered into the building together. Credence whips his head to stare at Newt.

"When you said Mr. Graves had a daughter, did you mean Modesty?"

Newt looks bemused. "Of course. Does he have a different daughter?"

"Not that I know of..." Credence says. "But Modesty wasn't Mr. Graves' daughter before we left. She's my **sister**."

Newt takes a moment to think about this.

"Oh." is all he says, looking unsure as what to do with information.

Credence repairs the rest of the street, ending with Jacob's bakery. Tina is busy worrying over Mr. Graves, so it's her sister who claps her hands together and gushes over Credence's ability.

"You're so good at that already!" she exclaims.

Credence can't help the smile that crosses his face at the compliment. "It's really nothing." he mumbles.

"Nothing? Credence, I could barely mend the broken spines on my books when I first started." Queenie tells him. "And I _happen_ to be very good at Charms."

"Credence is a very fast learner." Newt says, but he's somewhat distracted. His eyes looking past them and to where Tina is still talking to Mr. Graves. She turns and smiles at him from over Mr. Graves' shoulder. Modesty is looking straight at Credence as he turns to follow Newt's gaze.

She let's go of Mr. Graves' hand and walks over then to tug on Credence's. He bends to her height to listen to what she has to say.

"Can I see your wand?" she asks.

Credence's surprise is quick to evaporate when he remembers that she's been living amung witches. She knows about magic now, and she must be a witch herself if Mr. Graves took her in.

"Of course, just be careful alright? I don't think the man who made it would be very happy if something happened to it." he tells her, and he let's her hold it.

She examines it carefully in her hands. "The handle feels weird." she says.

"It's made of bone." he tells her, and smiles at the look of disgust on her face.

"That's gross, Credence." she informs him, practically shoving it back into his hand.

"Modesty, be nice." Mr. Graves scolds her gently.

"Sorry..." Modesty mumbles, her face turning sour.

Credence stands straight as Mr. Graves comes over to them, putting his hands on Modesty's shoulders. He looks Credence straight in the eye and Credence does his best to not shy away from his gaze. It's getting easier the more that Credence looks at him, gets used to seeing his face again...

"We should all get going," he tells Credence. "It's getting late, and New Year's or not, I'd rather Modesty went to bed before midnight."

They take the opportunity to say good night to Jacob and Queenie, who had plans to celebrate New Years together, and head back to Tina's apartment. Modesty walks between Mr. Graves and Credence, holding both their hands. Tina walks a few feet behind them, talking softly to Newt, who keeps smiling and scratching the back of his head.

"So..." Mr. Graves starts. "Is it... Is the Obscurus gone?"

Modesty looks up at Credence as his hand tightens on hers.

"No," he says, quietly. "Newt says my magic subdued it. We can't get rid of it, even if we wanted to."

"That black thing, you mean?" Modesty asks.

"Yeah." Credence tells her. "The black thing. It lives inside me. I have to keep doing magic so it doesn't try to protect me anymore. I have to protect myself instead."

Modesty stares at him for a few moments before lowering her head back down toward the ground. But then she looks back up and says, very seriously;

"I'm glad you're alive, Credence."

There's a pause as Credence registers this, his breath shaking slightly as he exhales.

"As am I." Mr. Graves adds softly.

Credence turns his head away to avoid both their stares. He doesn't know how to respond exactly. He wasn't expecting this when he decided to come back. He was expecting blame and yelling. He doesn't really think he deserves to be looked at with fondness or affection of any sort.

When they get to the apartment, Tina quickly becomes flustered with how to arrange the beds. It's quickly decided by Mr. Graves that Modesty's bed will be moved to his room where she and Credence can sleep, and Newt will take Queenie's bed for the night. Mr. Graves insists on sleeping on the floor, which he denies any sort of protest to.

Modesty doesn't protest as much as Credence or Tina do, possibly because she's so exhausted from her long day. She falls asleep before Mr. Graves can finish reading to her. Credence can't help, but watch as he leans over to kiss her head and tuck her in one last time. Before turning off the light and closing the door, Mr. Graves takes a moment to look back at Credence and wish him good night, a small smile on his face.

Credence can't help but think that he doesn't look very comfortable sleeping on the hard floor, after he sneaks out of his room later that night.

He feels a bit guilty as he sits down next to Mr. Graves' sleeping form. He looks at his relaxed face, the way his eyebrows are not furrowed like usual, and his mouth is parted slightly. He looks completely at peace... At least until his eyes open.

Credence is frozen in horror as Mr. Graves blinks up at him.

"You should be in bed." Mr. Graves whispers to him, before sitting up.

"I-I was just going to grab my- uh, my book." Credence tells him. "It's in Newt's case."

Mr. Graves looks over to where Newt's case is sat on the opposite side of the room, and then back at Credence.

" _Right_..." he says slowly. "Well, don't let me stop you."

Credence doesn't move, he just clenches his fist, knowing he's been caught in a lie.

"Credence, it's okay." Mr. Graves says, and he's smiling like he's humoured. "I'm glad to see you. You could have woken me if you needed to."

"I just- I wanted to make sure you were alright." Credence tells him, and he automatically gives in to his instincts. His whole body leans forward until his head is resting on Mr. Graves' shoulder.

Mr. Graves' hand comes up to rest on the back of Credence's neck like it always does, and he sighs heavily, the warm air brushing Credence's ear.

"Because of my episode earlier?"

Credence just shrugs a little. He didn't want to say anything about it, he just wanted to check on Mr. Graves. Make sure he wasn't hurt, or perhaps to make sure that he was really Mr. Graves this time...

"I'm sorry about that, Credence. I wish I hadn't reacted so poorly. I was just taken by surprise... I truly believed you were dead. Seeing you there... I just couldn't believe it."

"I didn't think you cared so much..."

Mr. Graves' grip on his neck tightens slightly. It's not enough to hurt, but Credence knows he's said something wrong.

"Have I really not made myself clear before?" Mr. Graves asks. "You're my friend, Credence. I've been mourning you since I was told of your death in the hospital. I almost quit my job, because of what they did to you."

Credence pulls away to look at him confused and almost angry.

"You almost quit? But you're in charge of Magical Law Enforcement. You love your job, you told me so."

"I did." Mr. Graves sighs. "But, Credence... You're important to me. I wouldn't be happy working for the people who _killed_ you. I became an Auror to help people, not to hurt them. I was going to help you... But I took my time, and you ended up even more hurt than you already were."

"But you did help me!" Credence insisted. "You healed me. You... You told me I was worth saving. I thought... I thought for sure that I was destined for Hell before I met you."

"Credence, I was being selfish." Mr. Graves tells him, and reaches to move Credence's bangs out of his face. "I was taking my time, because I liked spending time with you. I liked having you to myself... And without me, look how far you've come. You're doing so well under Mr. Scamander's watch... And I'm really proud of you."

"I wanted it to be you teaching me." Credence says, and he moves to hug Mr. Graves. "Newt was kind and patient with me, but he wasn't **you**."

His words are muffled by Mr. Graves' chest, and he can feel the hitch in his breathing. Mr. Graves' hand comes back up to his neck and his fingers slide into Credence's short hair at the base of his skull. Credence can't help, but feel safe in this moment in the dark. But then he feels small drops of something warm hitting his shoulder.

Mr. Graves is crying again and Credence has no idea what to do.

"Mr. Graves...?" Credence mumbles softly.

"Percival." Mr. Graves says, and his breath hitches again. "You should call me by my name."

Credence tighten his hold on Percival.

"Alright... Percival. I can do that." Credence says.

It's another hour before Credence goes back to bed. He leaves Mr. Graves sleeping peacefully on his back, his quiet tears dried up now. He feels much more confident that Mr. Gra- **_Percival_** \- doesn't blame him for what happened to him. But Credence certainly isn't pleased to find that he's decided to start blaming himself instead...

He sighs louder than intended as he lays back down on his bed. He pulls the covers over himself and breathes in the scent there... He just closes his eyes when;

"Where did you go?"

Credence sits up again at Modesty's voice.

"I just- I was just t-talking to Mr- to Percival." he stammers out.

Modesty makes a noise like she's thinking about what exactly that means.

"Do you think he's going to adopt you, as well?" she asks after a moment.

Credence feels some form of disgust come over him at the thought. Mr. Graves _adopting_ him? It felt almost laughable to think about. Almost.

"I'm a bit too old to be adopted again." he tells Modesty.

And it **is** true, he's 24. He's not a child anymore, and is most certainly passed the age of adoption.

"I know he doesn't want to, Credence..." she mumbles. "But you're still my brother... I really don't want you to leave again."

"I won't leave you again. I came back for you. If I ever leave you behind, it'll be because I don't have a choice." Credence told her. "You'll always be my family."

"Even though I ran away from you?" Modesty asks.

It takes a moment for Credence to understand what she's asking about, but he remembers her terrified face when he first turned into the Obscurus right in front of her. There was a reason Modesty was still alive while his Ma and Chastity weren't, and it had nothing to do with any sort of nonexistent control on Credence's part.

" _Modesty_..." Credence starts, moving over to sit next to her on her bed. "Modesty, if I ever become that thing again, you should run away. Run as far away from me as you can get. I become dangerous when I turn into it, and I would never forgive myself if I hurt you."

"But I abandoned you..."

" **No** , Modesty. You did what you had to do."

Credence reaches out to pull a strand of her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

"Go to sleep, Modesty. It's too late for you to be up." Credence whispers to her. "I'll help braid your hair tomorrow if you'd like."

"Alright, Credence." Modesty conceded. "I'll see you tomorrow."

~~~~~~~~~

Percival wakes up on the floor the next morning and his first thought is that he has to go to work that day.

His vacation, though extended, was now ended. He now had to wake himself up. Wake up Modesty and help Tina wake up Queenie, and then try and get Modesty to eat some breakfast. She was not in the way of eating an early meal every day, but-

But no...

Percival could hear Modesty laughing nearby. When he sits up from his place on the floor, he can see her sitting at the table, Credence standing behind her with a comb in his hand. They both look so happy...

Percival stands and stretches, walking over to where they are. He kisses the top of Modesty's head and squeezes Credence's shoulder. He walks over to the ice box and finds some butter for that morning's toast.

Tina comes out from behind the curtain already dressed and ready for work.

"Good morning, Percival." she says. "Ready to get back to MACUSA?"

Percival only hums, neither in approval or disagreement.

"We're going back to work?" Modesty asks, looking fairly excited.

"Actually," Percival says, his voice not quite ready for speech yet. "I was wondering if you might prefer to stay with Credence today? I'd hate for you to be kicked out again if the President has yet another a bone to pick with me."

Modesty looked back at Credence who smiles at her. She looked back at Percival.

"Can't he just come with us?" she asks, getting that look of determination on her face.

Percival takes a moment to think of how exactly to tell Modesty why that's an impossibility, but he doesn't get the chance.

"I'm afraid he can't." Tina answers. "Credence is still technically dead. If MACUSA finds out he isn't, they might try again."

"But that's stupid." Modesty protested. "He didn't _do_ anything."

No one says anything to that. Modesty looks around at all of them. Her gaze falls on Percival and he tries not to wince at her intense gaze.

"He **didn't**." she practically hisses at him.

"Not on purpose." Percival says, trying to appease her. "I agree that Credence did nothing, but... the _obscurus_ inside of him did hurt people."

Credence takes a step back from Modesty, as if he thinks they suddenly don't trust him to be near her. Percival hates that action... He'll have to speak to Credence about it later.

"Credence, you can finish helping Modesty with her hair, and then I'll give you two some money to go to the zoo today." Percival steps forward so he can sit across from Modesty at the table. "Modesty, I need you to listen to me."

"Why don't you tell them he didn't do anything?" Modesty demands. "You know he didn't do anything wrong, I can tell."

"I know that, but the people I work with aren't so easily convinced. You remember the President, Modesty. You remember how she acted. She's the person I have to prove it to. And seeing that Credence isn't dead..." Percival's eyes dart up to Credence, who is avoiding his eye. "It will just scare her into trying something else. Something Credence might not come back from."

"I thought witches were suppose to be smart. They're smart in all the stories you read me."

"Not all of them." Percival insists. "Quite a few make mistakes."

"Your job is **stupid**. The President is **stupid**! Credence should come with us! He's part of our family, your mom said so!"

Percival leans back in his chair. He rubs at his forehead with his knuckles and sighs. Glancing up he can see that Credence was curious about why exactly Percival's mother had anything to say about him. Percival avoids looking at him.

"Modesty, now isn't the time to talk about this. Spend today with Credence, and we'll talk about this when I get home tonight after we've had a chance to calm down."

Modesty pushes Credence's hands away from her hair and stands from her chair, stalking off to the closet-turned-room. Credence tries to follow after, but she slams the door right before he can enter. He stands there, stunned.

Then the suitcase on the ground opens up and Newt climbs out, smiling.

"Good morning, everyone! How are we today?"

Percival just turns his head away and gets back up to finish preparing his toast. Tina walks over to Newt and he can hear her explaining in a soft voice that Modesty is upset, because they can't tell anyone that Credence is alive.

Percival finishes his toast and notices that Credence is still in front of the door. Percival walks over and touches Credence's shoulder. He feels a small sense of pride when Credence doesn't flinch away.

"She'll come around." Percival tells him, and Credence nods.

"I know she will." Credence says. "But still, I should have spoken up. She might not believe it, but I did kill-"

"No, Credence. I won't hear it. Nothing can justify what MACUSA tried to do. What they want to do." Percival tells him. "Credence, I will remind you every day if I have to. You may believe that you've been the fault of their deaths, but I disagree. Not just as your friend, but as an Auror."

Credence attempted a smile, but it fell short of his eyes. Percival smoothed over his hair for a quick moment before turning to get ready for work. Newt looked decidedly less cheerful after his greeting, but he managed to corrall Credence into helping him with his creatures.

Work went by excruciatingly slowly for Percival. He was eager to get back to Modesty and Credence, perhaps spend the day with the both of them. He's pleased when Seraphina does not bother him for nearly the entire day, especially when he's in such a mood, but he can not say the same for the rest of his colleagues.

 

"No Modesty today, Mr. Graves?" Red asks as he and Tina get on the elevator together.

"Not today, Red. She's at home today."

"You find a nanny for her then?" Red asks as he takes them to the Auror offices.

"Uh, yes. A nanny." he agrees absentmindedly.

  
"Hey, Mr. Graves, where's the little girl today?" Habernathy asks as Percival walks past.

"Home. I found a nanny for her." Percival tells him automatically.

"Oh, well. She's a sweet kid, Mr. Graves."

"Yes, thank you." Percival says, continuing on.

  
"Mr. Graves, no little Miss today?" Bertha asks as he drops off a file on her desk.

"Not today, she's with the nanny."

"That's a shame, it was nice to see a sweet face like hers around here." Bertha sighs.

"Yes, well..." Percival mumbles, and then turns to leave without another word.

  
He finds it odd, and franklly disturbing, how invested they all are in the whereabouts of Modesty. It does nothing to help how much he finds he misses her that day. He starts to feel absolutely awful for not visiting his mother more often. If he gets seperation anxiety after only a few hours, he can't imagine what years of only letters has done to her.

Getting back to his office is a relief, if nothing else. He takes the time alone to breathe and roll his neck. He's just getting started on the rest of his paperwork when Seraphina comes in.

"Not today, Madame President, I-"

"Is that little girl with you?" she asks quickly, and he notices just how out of breath she seems.

"No, Modesty's at home." he says. "Why do you-"

"That's good, I need you to come with me." she says.

"Can I ask why-"

"Grindelwald has decided to start talking."

Percival pauses. "About what exactly?"

"About that boy." Seraphina says, and her face tells Percival that she's trying to keep her face blank to aoid another row with him.

Percival decides not to make it easy for her. "What _boy_ , exactly?"

"Credence Barebone." she states, slowly and clearly, and glaring at Percival venomously.

"Credence is dead." Percival tells her. "Whatever he's saying, I'm sure it-"

"You are the _**head**_ of Magical Law Enforcement! You will come with me right **now**! As your President, I am ordering you to do your **damn job**!"

Percival doesn't think he's ever seen Seraphina so angry at him. Not even after he beat her score in Arinthmancy. She pulls herself together quickly, touching her temple lightly she starts quietly;

"I know that you are... Upset with me, right now. But you need to put that aside and do your job. This is the first time he is willing to tell us anything. So we're talking. And if we can get anything about his plans, anything at all, the head of department should be there."

Percival stands up.

She understands and nods to him before heading out the door. He follows her, keeping up with his pace as they rush to the lower levels of MACUSA where high risk inmates are kept indefinitely.

They're behind the first interrogation room before they can miss anything else. They stand together in the dark, looking through at the only source of light there.

Behind the two way glass, Grindelwald sits.

"-and you haven't found anything left of the boy?" Grindelwald is saying, and Percival could feel a horrible ache go up his spine.

There's an anxiety sitting in the pit of Percival's stomach and he forces himself to listen the best he can.

There are four Aurors in the room, one sitting across from the chained up Grindelwald and three more standing with their wands trained on him. They do not blink, just as he'd trained them.

"There was nothing." Hopkins tells him calmly, a notepad is sitting in front of her, a pen at the ready.

"Are you sure? Obscurials generally have something left of them..."

"The obscurus is dead, Mr. Grindelwald. It's host was killed with it."

Grindelwald shakes his head and tisks at her.

"Such a shame what you did to him. Did you know his mother beat him? Locked him up when she thought he was bad. Made him bleed something awful for the smallest things. A dropped fork... An untucked shirt... **Talking**."

"Let's not talk about the boy any longer." Hopkins tells him. "Why don't we talk about-"

"Graves?" Grindelwald says, and Percival's insides turn to ice as Grindelwald's eyes turn to him.

It's impossible for Grindelwald to see him, but still... The eyes move away from him quickly and instead Grindelwald smiles at Hopkins. She shifts in her seat and Percival winces at that. She just gave away how uncomfortable she was.

"We can. How did you know Mr. Graves was going to be in Europe-"

"Did you know he was rather close with the Obscurial? Credence thought they were friends. I don't know if you've had any chance to question him about what his 'motives' were with the boy-"

"How exactly did you know Mr. Graves was going to be in Europe the day you attacked him?"

" _Attacked_ him? Is that what's he's been telling you all? How do you know he isn't one of mine-"

"We know." Hopkins tells him. "So, if you could answer the question-"

"I don't know how you would. You haven't questioned him about it. You find a man bleeding in a trunk and you just assume he's still on your side? That's not smart at all."

Hopkins pauses at that. "... How would you know if we have or haven't questioned Mr. Graves?"

"Let's talk about you instead, Mary. I'm rather sick of Percival Graves. You spend a day in his shoes and you find out he's actually quite _boring_. How's your son doing? Did he get into another fight today? Poor boy is being bullied something awful, isn't he?"

Mary Hopkins stands abruptly. She gathers her notepad and walks out without another word. The other Aurors don't move, knowing that they aren't allowed to without an order.

She's behind the glass with them before another minute can pass.

"He's using Legilimency." she says quickly. "I don't know how. We've been serving him potions to block his magic in his food, which we know for sure that he's eating."

"Could someone else be feeding him information?" Percival asks. "Can someone else be performing Legilimency on him to plant ideas?"

"But Legilimency is the reading of thoughts, not the planting of thoughts." the President tells him.

"We could try Legilimency on him instead?" Hopkins suggests. "See exactly how he's getting his information."

"We could..." Percival starts slowly, not wanting to suggest what he's thinking.

"Miss Goldstein?" Seraphina finishes for him. "The coffee girl?"

"The coffee girl?" Hopkins asks. "Why would she-"

"I'll ask her." Percival interrupts. "But if she says no, we're **not** forcing her."

"Very well. Where is she now?" Seraphina asks.

"I... I don't know." Percival says. "But I'll ask Tina. She's sure to know."

"Get on that, Percival." Piquery orders.

"Yes, **Percival**." Grindelwald says in the other, soundproofed room. "Get on that."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention there's sort of an actual plot to this? I mean, there was already a plot, but here's the other plot.
> 
> Give me your thoughts and opinions!! 
> 
> Also, real life theory for the next movies, does anyone else think that Credence could end up turning into a Dementor? I've been thinking about it a lot, I mean... What happens to the Obscurus when its host dies? Does it take over the body and start sucking souls out? Just an idea, let me know. It's not happening in this story, don't worry.


	10. Foreboding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! And I'm more tired than ever! I'm way to lazy to be rereading this and making corrections or detail changes so excuse me while I just leave it as is until a later time. You'll know I went through it because this will be different.

Modesty did calm down enough later in the day to allow Credence to take her out. They used the money Mr. Graves had given Credence and took a trip to the zoo. Despite Modesty’s earlier haughtiness, she became pleasant enough to enjoy having her brother back.

Credence was grateful to spend time with her and he couldn’t be happier to be with her…

But something felt wrong.

It wasn’t the usual guilt that crept up the back of hs throat, or the swirling mass he felt inside him. There was something wrong and… He didn’t know what. He kept his spirits up as much as he could for Modesty, but still he felt bothered...

It was later, when they were ice skating. that he thought he knew what it was.

He had just fallen for the fifth time, Modesty’s laughter making the sting of the ice hurt less... when he saw someone in the distance. They had moved suddenly, drawing Credence’s eye. Their hat was drawn low over their face, but he got the sense that they were watching him and Modesty…

“Why don’t we head back to Tina’s?” Credence asked Modesty, keeping a smile on his face, but his eye on the person in the distance.

“Already?” Modesty whined. “It’s not even that dark.”

“If we head back, I can show you some of the spells that Newt showed me.” he bargained.

Modesty bit her lip and he knew that he’d got her.

They walked back with Modesty holding onto his sleeve and Credence glancing over his shoulder. They were being followed, there was no mistaking it. Credence tried to increase their pace without looking unnatural, but he could hear the footfalls behind them increasing with their own.

Modesty was catching on to what was happening the further they went. Pretty soon it was her pulling Credence into an alleyway to try and lose whoever was following them. They hid behind the trash bins and broken discarded furniture that was left there.

The footsteps drew closer to where they hid, Modesty’s breathing was heavy and Credence’s heart felt too loud in his chest.

Closer.

Modesty’s hand gripped his so tightly, Credence thought the bones might pop out.

Too close…

“Credence Barebone.” a voice says quietly from just beyond the bins..

Credence fights the urge to yell out.

“Credence…” it says. “Our master has been waiting for your return.”

Credence’s hand goes to the pocket in his jacket and slowly pulls out his wand.

“Grindelwald is looking for-”

Credence doesn’t let them finish.

“Incendio!” he shouted, jumping up and casting the spell at the person in front of them.

They instantly burst into flames and before Credence could let himself feel horrified at what he’d just done, Modesty was dragging him away.

As the ran he hastily shoves his wand back into it’s pocket.

He saw something.

On the figure.

He had recognized it.

He’d thought it was a sign that he was special, once… But he’d been fooled with kind words, and seeing it on this person’s chest only solidified Credence’s understanding of how easily taken advantage of he was. How easily bought he was…

Modesty is coughing now as they finally start to slow down. She was bent over, her face flush, trying to catch her breath. Credence looked around them as she took a rest from running away. It didn’t seem like they were being followed any longer, so Credence allowed his shoulders to slump forward and he took a deep breath of the clear winter air.

“Credence…” Modesty spoke quietly. “What was that? What did you do?”

Credence shook his head slightly, feeling his ears burn up. “It was a charm. I didn’t think… I’d read it somewhere, I just thought to distract them… I didn’t think it would just…”

“Eat him?” Modesty asked.

Credence nods and for a moment he very seriously thinks he’s going to be sick. But Modesty grabs his hand again.

“We should go tell Percival.” she says, and when Credence looks at her eyes he knows there’s no trying to convince her otherwise.

“Okay.” he murmurs. “Let’s go.”  
  


Arriving back at the apartment, Credence and Modesty are met with the sight of Percival speaking angrily to Newt in a low voice. Newt looks defiant and guilty at the same time and Credence gets the feeling that they are talking about him.

Once Percival sees him and Modesty enter the room, he stops speaking immediately and takes a step back from Newt.

“You’re home! How was the zoo?” he asks, forcing a smile onto his face.

“Credence set a person on fire.” Modesty says immediately, rushing over to Percival.

“What?!” both Newt and Percival exclaim.

Credence stutters around the explanation he had been planning, and all the comes out is “I- I um, I just- I-”

But Modesty continues over this.

“They’d been chasing us and talking about that man.”

“That man? What man?” Percival asks her.

“The one who pretended to be you. He’s been looking for Credence. They said they were waiting for him to come back.”

Percival’s head whips around to look at Newt, a fierce sort of anger in his eyes. Newt looks put out, but he ignores Percival and walks towards Credence instead. He puts a hand on Credence’s upper arm and Credence looks back at Percival, who is staring at him.

“Credence,” Newt starts. “What happened exactly?”

“I didn’t mean to set them on fire like I did-” Credence starts, but Newt just shakes his head.

“From the beginning. You were being followed?”

Credence nods. “All day, I think. I only noticed when we were skating on the pond… When we left, they came after us and we tried to hide, but they knew where we- or maybe just where I was.”

“What did they say?”

“That they’d been waiting for me to come back. I think that they’ve been looking for me. I didn’t really let them finish, I was… I was scared, and I really only meant to set their clothes on fire… We didn’t stay to help, but it looked bad…”

“Where did you learn-”

“It doesn’t matter where he learned it.” Percival cuts in. “Just be grateful he did. He and Modesty might not be here if he hadn’t decided to take some initiative.”

“Credence has to be careful, Mr. Graves.” Newt tells him calmly. “He’s powerful. Extremely powerful. I told you that the simplest magic could pose as a danger-”

“He needs to know more than a few simple charms.” Percival insists. “Control comes with practice. Having power doesn’t mean he can’t learn-”

“Wait.” Credence says. “Were you arguing about me?”

Newt and Percival exchange a look that Credence can’t decipher.

“Mr. Graves just has some issues with some of the spells I’ve been teaching you…” Newt says. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Credence.”

“You need to know defensive spells.” Percival tells him. “Charms are all well and good, and there’s quite a few that can help in a fight, but… You should know more than a few housekeeping spells.”

“You think I’ll need to fight…” Credence mumbles, a lump forming in his throat.

“You don’t _need_ to do anything, Credence.” Newt assures him.

“It’s a precaution. A much needed one, it seems.” Percival says. “You said it yourself, you need to protect yourself so the obscurus doesn’t do it for you. Every wizard knows a few defensive and offensive spells.”

Credence thinks of watching Mr. Graves- or rather Grindelwald attacking Newt on the subway rails… Electrocuting him over and over...

“I don’t know…” Credence says.

“Newt, why don’t you…” Percival starts, clearly searching for a reason to get Newt to leave. “Why not check on the creatures? Make sure none of them have the urge to escape?”

Newt gives a half smile and shrug. He leaves the room, and Percival waits for him to be out of sight before turning to Credence. Modesty goes to sit at the table, watching both of them.

“Credence, I’m not trying to make any decisions for you.” Percival starts. “But it’s something you would be learning anyway. Whether you use it or not it up to you.”

“I think I killed someone today, Percival…” Credence mumbles.

To his surprise, Percival smiled.

“You’re powerful, Credence. But wizards are made of tougher stuff. I’m sure whoever you set on fire is perfectly fine. Trust me, a small fire starting spell is nothing to worry yourself over.”

Percival puts a hand on Credence’s shoulder and ushers him over to where Modesty is sitting.

“I think we should talk about some things.” Percival says. “All of us.”

Credence sits down and furrows his brow. There was more to talk about?

Percival takes a seat across from both of them, and he folds his hands together on the table. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts and then focuses on Modesty.

“We should talk about this morning.”

“Oh.” Credence sighs, letting his anxiety out. But as he relaxes, Modesty seems to bristle.

“I haven’t changed my mind.” Modesty says defiantly.

“I’m not asking you to.” Percival tells her. “I don’t want you to not fight for what you believe in. Credence is your family-”

“Our family.” Modesty corrects.

Percival smiles a bit at that, and Credence feels his ears go warm at the sight.

“He is... But if we tell the Magical Congress that Credence is alive, we’re putting him in danger.” Percival explains. “I don’t want to hide him, I truly don’t, but I am concerned. Grindelwald has been talking about him, which means he’ll be on MACUSA’s radar whether we want him to be or not.”

Modesty looks down at the table. She looks angry, but she doesn’t bother trying to argue this time. Credence thinks that the earlier incident may have given her a different perspective on exactly what it means for them to send people after Credence.

Percival turns to Credence. “I don’t think he knows that I know you’re alive. We’re not even sure how he can know about you. He’s obviously communicating with someone from the outside, but we don’t know how.”

“I don’t, um… I’m not sure if it’s how he communicates, but the person who came after us was wearing this… Pendant?” Credence tells him. “You- uh, he gave me one just like it… He told me to touch it and he would come to me.”

“Do you still have it?” Percival asks.

“No, I… I was wearing it when the Obscurus…” Credence trails off and clears his throat. “...I wasn’t wearing anything when I reformed. I suppose I just assumed it got destroyed when they tried to kill me.”

“I’ll talk to Newt about that.” Percival tells him, tapping lightly on the table. “But please, don’t try to involve yourself just yet. Not until you’ve had some more training.”

“Will you teach me? Defense at least?” Credence asks, quickly, before he could lose his nerve.

Percival leans back in his seat and looks at Credence as if he’d just given him a gift.

“Of course I will. I’ll teach you whatever you’d like to learn.”

“What about me?” Modesty asks.

Percival raises an eyebrow at her. “You and I have talked about this already. You’ll be going to Ilvermorny when you’ve reached the proper age. Until then, you’ll get a tutor for your regular studies."

Modesty huffed and slouched in her chair. Credence felt a bit more at ease at the sight, but not entirely. The world felt just a bit more dangerous today… And Credence already had issues feeling safe. Even if Mr. Graves was here for him, Credence couldn’t help but feel that something awful could happen at any moment.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Percival didn’t care for Newt.

It wasn’t that Percival disliked him. Percival wasn’t a stranger to the classic British haughtiness, or the blunt way that Newt talked about things. If anything, Percival would appreciate it if it were anyone else. But Newt rubbed Percival the wrong way, if only because of how he acted with Credence.

Newt was kind to Credence, of course. If he weren’t a kind man Tina wouldn’t even give the man the time of day… But Percival could tell that he was keeping something from them.

Percival hated to think that it would have anything to do with Grindelwald, but it was more likely that it was about Credence. Newt wouldn’t divulge exactly how he was able to reform Credence from what was left of him. He wouldn’t teach Credence anything other than charms and housekeeping spells, and he was entirely too quiet about why.

Percival also may resent him a tad for stealing Credence away…

Which was ridiculous.

Percival didn’t own Credence.

Credence was better off for having gone with Newt anyway.

But still… Something didn’t sit right.

Percival was left musing about all of this as he sat at the dining table late at night, waiting for Queenie to finally arrive home. It was already past midnight, and Percival was becoming more and more concerned. When the door opened, his anxiety wasn’t sated in the least. He quickly attempted to change his thoughts to the most pressing matter on his plate. It was the one she could most immediately help with, anyway...

She walked in with a smile on her face, and Percival wished it would stay there after he talked to her, but it wasn’t likely.

“Hello,” he said, and she didn’t startle in the least. “How is Jacob?”

She turned as soon as she shut the door, a brilliant grin on her face.

“He’s wonderful! Just the best!” she said, her voice soft and yet filled with excitement.

Percival nodded calmly, bringing his cup of coffee up for a sip. As he did so, her smile faltered.

“Oh…” she murmured, and her body language changed immediately.

Queenie sat down next to Percival and turned the chair to face him. Her expression becoming more and more grim as she listened to his thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” Percival sighed, hoping that she could understand exactly how much he meant it.

“Don’t be, I understand.” Queenie told him, waving a hand. “I didn’t even realize the President knew about my… Well, she’s the president for a reason, I suppose.”

“It’s not common knowledge, if that helps. And it won’t be afterwards, either.”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t you even worry about it. Sorry I wasn’t home sooner. It sounds like you had a rough day.”

Percival can’t hold back the snort that comes up. Queenie seems to find it amusing rather than insulting, and he’s reminded again of just how much he likes her.

“A rough day is one way to phrase it. I really do hate to ask this of you… But honestly, we need your help on this. If you don’t want to, I understand.”

“Of course, I’ll do it.” Queenie tells him, her smile creeping hesitantly back onto her face. “Grindelwald is a rotten man. I’ll do what I can to keep him behind bars.”

“Queenie, I can’t thank you enough… And perhaps…”

“Don’t tell Tina? Merlin knows she’d throw a fit… I mean, she will anyway, but by then it’ll be too late to try and stop me.”

  


And so the next day, Queenie goes into work as per usual, while Percival and Tina head downstairs. He does his best to act normal, he doesn’t quite have the practice that Queenie does when it comes to keeping things from Tina. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to suspect a thing as they talk about their Magical Creatures bill. She’s becoming adamant that Newt be cited for their defense and knowledge of the creatures that would no longer be made illegal.

Percival does his best to stay on topic and involved, but his mind is on Grindelwald the entire time. This could be their only chance to figure out his plans… He can only hope that Queenie comes through with this.

He’s almost happy to see Madame Piquery walk through his office door. She says nothing, just looks expectantly at him before exiting again. Percival apologizes to Tina before making his way outside the office to follow the President to the elevator.

“Well?”

“We have good news and bad news.” Seraphina sighs, touching her temple. “The good news is that we have information. Queenie has really come through for us and a lot of our questions have been answered.”

“What’s the bad news? Is Queenie alright?” Percival asks, almost afraid of the answer.

“She’s perfectly fine. The bad news is that we’ve been forced to stop our investigation.”

“What?”

“The countries where his reign of terror has hit the hardest… We were lucky, Percival. They have all decided it would be best if he was investigated and tried in Europe. They’ve been dealt the most damage, they want him to answer for those crimes first.”

Percival felt as if the rug has been swiped from under his feet. He couldn’t… After everything that they went through… Everything that he had been through… They were just going to give that monster away?

“Who… Or rather, when are they planning to collect him?”

“Next week. They’ll be sending a group made up of Aurors from each country to take him. You’ll be the one to hand him over, with whichever of your own staff you feel should be there.”

Percival didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to feel.

“Where’s Queenie now?” he hears himself say. Yes… That’s where his head needs to be right now. He needs to know what she found out.

“The break room, I assume.” the President tells him. “We had everything she said on a transcript, if that-”

“Thank you, Madame President.” Percival left without looking back, briskly walking to Queenie’s location.

She was sitting at a table by herself. He head resting on one hand, her eyes looking off to somewhere far beyond view. Percival approached her calmly, giving her plenty of time to notice him, and yet she still jumped a little as he sat down next to her.

“Oh! Sweetheart, I’m so sorry! I was a million miles away.” she says, smiling at him softly.

“That’s alright. I wanted to talk about Grindelwald.”

Queenie nodded and looked back down at her coffee. “I won't lie, his head isn’t exactly what I would call a pleasant place… He analyzes things in a way I don’t think I ever could… The first thing he was thinking of when he saw me was how could he use me to his advantage, what could he say to get into my head. Towards the end he knew what I was doing, and he started using occlumency to push me out.”

“Did he think at all about how he was communicating to his followers? Or rather how he got information from outside his cell?”

“Oh yes. He has these things that his followers wear. They’re like pendants, and they-”

“What do they look like?”

“A circle I think, with a triangle that’s been halved.”

“And they’re connected to him?”

Queenie nods. “I don’t know how exactly, but he has the same symbol on his person. It might be a scar, or inked into his skin somehow. I don’t think anyone has found it on him, no one made any note of it in the reports.”

“And what about Credence?”

“Oh… Well, he didn’t think too much on him. Just a stray thought here and there. Like I said, everything was really organized in an unpleasant way… He has a plan I guess about how to get out and it mentions Credence. As if he thinks that Credence is going to be the one to get him out. And honestly… From the way that he was thinking about things, I’d believe him.”

Percival tapped a finger against his upper lip, thinking hard. He would need to speak to Credence about this of course. See if they can figure out exactly what happened to that pendant…

“We can’t let that happen. Does he know about the aurors coming to move him?”

“He does. I already told Madam Picquery. She’s been trying to get them to reschedule, but I don’t think they’re willing to delay… They want him as quickly as they can get him.”

Percival restrained himself from swearing.

“Is there anything else? Anything that might help us prevent any of his plans?”

“He wants you to be there when it happens, that’s all I know for sure.”

Percival leaned back in his seat. “I don’t know what to do with that… I can’t not be there, and I would like to think I can handle myself, but after what’s happened…”

Queenie reached out to put a hand on his.

“Nothing will happen to you or Credence. We’ll make sure of it.”

Percival tried to smile, but his lips wouldn’t move. He wanted to trust Queenie’s word, but the sinking in his gut made it impossible.

Grindelwald was going to get the best of him. Again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thanks very much for reading! Maybe leave a comment or some kudos so I can feel validated for writing something that is never going to happen.


	11. Allies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's September now. I don't have a whole lot to say about this chapter. I'm just tired, and I've had a really shitty month.

Percival pulls Credence aside the next morning during breakfast. Away from Modesty and the concerned looks from Newt and Tina, Credence tries not to feel cornered or nervous at all. It’s difficult though when Percival has a strong grip on Credence’s arm, despite it not biting into him at all.

Percival looks at him very seriously after he closes the bedroom (closet?) door behind them, but he puts his hands on Credence’s shoulders and Credence can’t help but feel grounded at the gesture.

“We talked about Grindelwald already.” Percival states, and Credence gives him a confused look.

“Yes…?”

“I didn’t want to bring it up in front of the others, but that pendant he gave you…”

Credence swallowed.

“I don’t want to make you do anything, or make you feel uncomfortable, but…” Percival sighs and he looks apologetic. “I discussed it with Tina, and we both agreed that it may still be… **with** you.”

Credence could feel a lump in his throat form.

“Like… Inside of me somewhere?”

“I’m afraid so. I don’t want you to feel forced or anything, and I trust you that you’ve checked yourself over, but…”

“Just to be safe, you think someone else should too.” Credence confirms.

Percival nods, a sympathetic look on his face.

“It doesn’t have to be me.” Percival tells him. “Newt could do it later after he returns from the publisher’s, or perhaps Tina? I would understand after everything that happened.”

Credence shook his head, fiddling with his shirt buttons.

“I want it to be you.” Credence says softly, feeling extremely embarrassed. “You’ve seen me at my worst, I think… Or almost my worst. At least everything Mary Lou did to me-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Credence.” Percival tells him. “I’m glad you still trust me.” 

Credence feels his blood rush through him, pounding in his ears. Percival stands awkwardly for a moment, before seeming to realize that Credence would need to undress for Percival to look at him properly.

“Oh, um, I’ll just turn around then…”

He does just that, and Credence is quick to unbutton his shirt and trousers.

This isn’t the first time he’s had to strip for someone. It’s not even the first time he’s stripped for Percival, but those were under different circumstances… Mary Lou required weekly checks for witches marks and any sort of sign that Credence was doing something he shouldn’t, and Percival had seen him in the aftermath, his blood seeping through his clothes to the point that Credence could no longer keep it from him…

He tries not to think about it too hard.

When he’s done, he’s left standing in his underwear, his arms wrapped around himself. Percival doesn’t seem to notice his awkward waiting at all, so Credence clears his throat. When he turns around, Credence is surprised and confused to see him smiling. 

“You’ve gained some weight.” Percival tells him.

“Oh! Yes. I've been trying to eat more regularly...” Credence looks down at himself, not fully aware of the difference in his size.

“I’m glad. Alright, now. Let’s see you properly.”

Percival examines him in an almost clinical way, as he’s always done. Percival’s hands ran down his arms and legs, turning his wrists gently, and checking his ribs gingerly. Nothing seems to be misplaced at all, and Credence isn’t sure if it’s a good thing or not. Percival's touch is warm, as it always has been, and Credence suspects he's using magic to check below the surface of his skin.

“Everything seems in order.” Percival tells him and takes a respectable step back.

Credence manages a smile as he reaches for his clothes. Percival continues to stand there, unsure what to do with himself.

“It’s a nice change, honestly. To see you healthy and uninjured.”

Credence nods, buttoning his shirt up again. “It’s been… a bit of a relief. Not having to worry about her anymore… Not having to bother anyone about it.”

“It was never a bother, Credence. I was glad to help. It only bothers me that she was so quick to use force on you. Nothing you did-”

“I know. It’s not my fault… I’ve been hearing that a lot lately, but it doesn’t…” Credence fights to find the proper word for it. “Nothing _changes_. I still feel like I… deserved it.”

“Credence…” Percival sighs, looking put out and sad.

“No, I just… I couldn’t follow the rules. They were simple… Be good. Come home at the proper hour. Don’t break things.”

“... Hurt your sisters?”

Credence flinched at the thought. He was repeatedly asked to discipline Modesty when she acted out… He never could. He didn’t want to think about it. Mary Lou was just… He had to be a proper man. Discipline was a part of that.

Percival didn’t stop there.

“Don’t be yourself? Don’t speak? Don’t talk to anyone your own age?” Percival stepped forward again, taking Credence’s shaking hands in his own. “Do these sound _reasonable_ to you?”

Credence tried to hide his face in his shoulder, but Percival was still there, still staring at him.

“Credence, I will tell you every day for the rest of my life. You didn’t deserve a single thing that woman did to you. I’ll tell you until you believe me.”

“I believe that… _you_ believe that.”

“Credence… Please. We’ve all… We’ve all been punished. Whether our favorite toy was taken away, or our father put us over a knee, we’ve all been shown our wrong doing... But what Mary Lou did to you? That wasn’t teaching you anything. That was her enjoying your pain. Using it to hold you down. There should never be scars left from a mother’s touch.”

Credence said nothing, keeping his eyes averted still. Percival’s hands slid away from Credence’s own and he took his step back again.

“I’m sorry… These sorts of things are a process, I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s fine. Just… Let me finish dressing…”

Percival waited patiently as Credence finished doing up his buttons and sliding a belt through his trousers. When he was properly dressed, and locked his fingers together.

“Could we… Could we sit down maybe?” Credence asked gesturing over to the bed.

Percival nodded and quickly obliged, allowing Credence some room to sit next to him.

“It’s… New for me.” Credence started slowly. “Living with people who don’t want to hurt me. Being able to speak freely… Everyone has been so kind, and you… You never stopped being kind.”

Percival didn’t say anything, just waited for Credence to continue.

“But I thought you did stop. I thought you hurt me. And it was like… Everything clicked into place for me. It all made sense. People hurt each other. And maybe that was why I- or why the obscurus did what it did. Maybe that's just how it was supposed to work. Newt helping me… And learning that you didn’t hurt me… Tina and Queenie taking us all in like this… You adopting Modesty, it’s like the world is trying to prove me wrong.”

Credence takes a deep breath, and looks Percival in the eyes.

“And I want to believe it. I want kindness to win. And maybe I just… Want to believe that what she did was out of her own sort of kindness. It’s not true, of course… But it would be nice, I think... If that’s what was happening.”

Credence looked away again, unable to say anymore. Percival raises his arm to wrap around Credence’s shoulders and pull him gently closer. Credence goes without issue, closing his eyes and resting his head against Percival’s shoulder.

“If kindness hurts, they’re doing it wrong.” he says softly in Credence’s ear, but leaves it at that.

Credence feels the pressure of Percival pressing a kiss to the top of his head and he suddenly has the overwhelming urge to cry. He doesn’t though. He powers through it as they sit there together for a few more moments.

“Credence…” Percival says into his hair. “If it’s alright with you… I think something needs to change."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Percival isn’t sure why his talk with Credence has encouraged him to do this. It’s incredibly risky, but Percival hopes, hopes so dearly, that it will work out in their favor. With everything that has happened, everything that has gone right and everything that they have to plan for in the wake of Grindelwald’s escape attempt, Percival is desperate to see this through to a proper happy ending. But for that to happen, they’ll need…

“Seraphina.”

The President looks up in surprise as Percival knocks on her door. She looks tired and anxious, but no less determined than usual.

“Mr. Graves, what-”

“Sera,” Percival interrupts, a hand raised to halt her speech. "Do you trust me?"

“What? Why are you-”

“I need to know, Sera, do you trust me to do whatever I can to keep our world and our country safe?”

She looks shocked and confused, her mouth open slightly. She looks into his eyes and closes her mouth, perhaps seeing this for the opportunity to fix things between them that it is.

“Percival, I would never have put you in the position I did if I didn't trust you completely."

Percival nods once.

“Do you trust that I’m your friend, and that I would do anything for you, within reason?”

Her eyes softened considerably.

“Within reason, of course.”

“Good. Then I need you to come with me to the Goldstein’s home.”   
  


 

The small apartment is empty when they arrive, as Percival had instructed. Queenie had taken Modesty out, Tina was still at work, and Newt was at the publishers. Seraphina looked so regal amungst the modest belongings of the flat, but she did not act as if she were above it. She even smiled at some of the trinkets the Queenie kept on their mantel. Her eyes gliding along the shelves of books and cozy fireplace.

“Would you like some tea? Coffee maybe?” Percival asked as he took her coat.

“Tea is fine…” Sera said, still taking in her surroundings.

Percival lit the stove with a flick of his wand and the kettle made its way over to the flame. It was mindless magic that Percival didn't always bother with, but

“So you’ve been staying here.” 

“I have. Tina and Queenie have been very accommodating while I look for somewhere new.”

“Are you moving for Modesty or for… Other reasons?”

“Mostly other reasons. I was staying here before we found Modesty. I’m glad I held off on finding somewhere new for so long. Things keep coming up.”

Seraphina stayed quiet, looking at him with concern and confusion. She was trying to understand his motives. He’s seen the look on her face enough times to recognize it. She wanted to ask and he wanted to explain, but before either of them could say a word, the kettle whistled.

With a precise flick of his wrist, the boiled water poured itself into mugs and the tea bags jumped in of their own accord. Percival merely gestured for it to come over and it did gladly. Settling on the table before each seat.

Percival sipped his tea without hesitation, but Seraphina held back.

“Is there a reason you’ve prepared an extra mug?” she asked.

Percival continued to enjoy his tea. “Credence.” he said, a bit louder than his normal speaking voice.

He briefly enjoyed the look of confusion on Seraphina’s face just before Credence opened the door to his room and stepped out.

“Credence, your tea is ready. Why not sit with us?”

Credence was quiet but did as he was asked. He was nervous, and for good reason. The last encounter he had with the President, she had nearly succeeded in killing him. His hand shook noticeably as he reached for his mug of tea.

“Sera, you haven’t touched your-”

“What is this, Graves? An illusion? Are you taunting me or something?”

Credence stopped mid reach, and Percival looked to her.

“You told me you trusted me,” Percival says quietly. “I need you to trust me right now.”

Seraphina looked somewhat distraught as her eyes switched between looking to Credence to Percival.

“Is he… Is he _alive_?”

“He is. Credence, you’re alive, aren’t you?”

Credence nodded, quickly pulling his mug towards himself.

“Did you… Were you keeping this from me to… To torture me? Why…? How did this happen?”

“He wasn’t killed. He was... hurt. He was…” Percival looks to Credence to try and find the the right words, but Credence only gives him a pained look. “... mostly dead?”

Seraphina looks down at her hands. They tremble slightly, but only for a moment.

“... How long have you known?”

“Since New Years.” Percival answers honestly.

Seraphina nods. She seems to be registering this information, possibly deciding on exactly how much of a traitor Percival is.

“So… He was hurt. And you didn’t know until a few days ago… How did he get here? Who helped him to survive?”

“From what I understand....” Percival very seriously considered his next words. “... He was found, and taken to a Professor in Scotland. There was some experimentation, and Credence was able to regain his… strength.”

“A professor in Scotland…” Seraphina huffed a laugh and shook her head. “ _Dumbledore_ then.”

Percival neither confirmed nor denied, but that didn’t stop Credence from speaking up.

“You know him?” he asked softly.

Seraphina looked at him, her eyes boring into his enough to make Credence flinch.

“He’s a potential for Minister of Magic, and frankly, a troublemaker in the political world. The UK is practically at his mercy… If he weren’t a good man, that would be a problem.”

Credence seemed to pale at that.

“He was in Scotland, so why is he here?”

“I… I’m not the person to ask.” Percival tells her.

Seraphina looks back to Credence.   
  
“Why are you... here?”

Credence clenched and unclenched his hands, as his eyes darted around.

“My sister is here… I grew up in this city. My mother died here. My birth mother... And…” he glanced at Percival. “... I have friends here.”

Seraphina’s eyes softened ever so slightly. Percival couldn’t keep down his own smile at Credence’s words. The anxiety Percival was dealing with lessened slightly.

“So, why tell me now, Percival? In fact, why tell me? I would think I’m the last person you would want to know about Credence’s survival.”

“Because Grindelwald is being moved.” Percival told her, his mouth once again forming a serious line. “Queenie didn’t tell you everything, because of our situation, but… Grindelwald knows Credence is alive. We haven’t quite figured out how yet, but he’s planning on trying to use Credence to help him.”

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed at Percival. “You had Miss Goldstein _keep_ information that she found in the head of one of the most dangerous criminals from **me**?”

“We’re telling you now. Credence has been approached by one of Grindelwald’s followers, trailed through the city as well. For this city’s sake… And for Credence’s sake… I need you to be in the loop.”

Seraphina folded her hands in front of hherse and pursed her lips.

“The simplest solution is to execute Credence… As was intended.”

Percival is quick to protest, his tone suggesting that he is prepared to fight her if need be. “He’s in control now, Seraphina. He’s not a danger to anyone.”

The look on Credence’s face made this clear to both Percival and Seraphina that he didn’t agree.

“He’s learning magic. The obscurus… It’s not eating at him. He can control it, he just needs practice.”

Seraphina snorted at that. “Practice being a destructive force of energy? Where exactly do you plan on training him? Better yet, _how_ will you train him? There are no living obscurials. There are none who’ve learned to control it.”

“Mr. Grave- Grindelwald I mean… He seemed sure that I could.” Credence says. “I don’t… I think maybe I might need practice. I would prefer to use my wand, but… If I have to, I’ll learn. I spent a month as a piece of it… I think maybe if I take it slow…”

“We think using magic helps subdue it.” Percival adds. “It was Credence’s defense mechanism. He only ever hurt people who hurt him. With him no longer subduing his own magic, the Obscurus has less reason to protect him.”

“Has this been tested at all?” Seraphina asked, skeptically. 

“The man, the one who followed me… I used my wand. I didn’t lose control at all.”

Seraphina sighed deeply. “It was only the _simplest_ solution… There are more things to consider, here. We would possibly have to alert the rest of the Auror department of Credence’s continued existence.”

“I’ll tell them myself if you think it’s best.” Percival informs her. “They’re my team after all.”

Seraphina looks to Credence. She unfolds her hands and places them flat on the table.

“I feel… I should apologize. My actions were… Rash at best. I considered you only as a monster when really… I should have been trying to help you. As your President… I failed you. I made a promise to protect the magical world, and... You are a part of that world. I’m sorry, Credence… For hurting you.”

Credence tries to smile, but it comes off forced. Percival internally winces at the sight.

“It’s okay. I… It’s alright.”

Percival stands before Seraphina pushes the subject.

“Thank you, Sera, for trusting me.”

Sera stands as well.

“I should get back before someone notices I’m gone.” Seraphina says.

She shakes Percival’s hand. Her grip as strong and sure as usual. She then reaches over to do the same with Credence. Credence is hesitant, but grabs her hand nonetheless. Sera manages a smile and a nod, before she apparates away.

Percival turns to Credence. He’s still sitting, a little pale and his tea, like everyone else's’. has gone cold. Percival looks at his friend and his heart aches.

“Credence?” Percival says softly. 

Credence looks at him and tries to smile. It fades quickly when he realizes that Percival isn’t fooled. Percival doesn’t think he ever could be fooled.

“I’m sorry, I know I should be glad…”

Percival walked over and pulls a chair close to Credence’s. He puts a hand on Credence’s own, and finds that it’s freezing. He doesn’t let it stop him from wrapping his fingers around thinner ones.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Credence shakes his head in confusion. “I should be happy… Or at least relieved… I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Percival squeezes his hand. He does know what wrong. He’s seen Credence deal with it before. Sometimes Mary Lou would apologize. She would show him kindness… An extra piece of bread for breakfast, a gentle hand on his shoulder… Credence was always confused by it. Untrusting. Usually it was because she wanted something from Credence that he didn’t usually give. A week in the factories usually. Locked in with several dirty and sick children…

Seraphina apologizing after what she’s done… To Credence it meant something worse was coming. That she would want something from him, which wasn’t completely wrong. She was expecting Credence to fight with them when the time came. Which Percival was sure would be soon…

“It’s alright.” Percival told him. “You don’t have to feel happy. You don’t have to feel anything towards her that you don’t already.”

Credence nodded his head, but he still looked upset at himself. Percival lifted Credence’s hand and kissed it softly. He looked straight at Credence as his face flushed. Percival smiled a little at that, it was nice to see him not so pale.

“I won’t promise that everything will be okay… I promised that before and it turned out not to be true… But I promise that I’ll do my best to keep you safe. I’ll try my hardest to keep anyone from hurting you again.”

Credence managed to look Percival in the eye. His lips turned up slightly and the crease in his forehead lessened considerably.

“I know you will.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please consider leaving kudos, or even better, a comment!


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